


Snow Crystals

by AwesomerArtie, Ledge, PunctuationPoint



Series: Last of The Walking Dead (Novelization) [2]
Category: The Last of Us, The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Divergent Storyline, F/F, POV Third Person, Roleplay Server Novelization, double trouble part 2, holy shit there's still walkers and infected, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 61,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25323295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomerArtie/pseuds/AwesomerArtie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ledge/pseuds/Ledge, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunctuationPoint/pseuds/PunctuationPoint
Summary: With the Saviors taking over Jackson, living a normal life has become all but impossible. Clementine struggles to survive outside the walls, while Lee tries everything to find her again. And with Ellie being forced to move on from her best friend, finding peace again feels unobtainable.
Relationships: Clementine (Walking Dead)/Ellie (The Last of Us)
Series: Last of The Walking Dead (Novelization) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875103
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part 2 of the Last of the Walking Dead series! A few quick notes before we get into this: Starting with this story, we'll only be doing novelizations from now on. Something to Fight For Novelization will also eventually get finished, but is taking a bit of a backseat due to rewrites we wanna do for the early arcs of the story.
> 
> SPOILER WARNING:  
> There'll be definitely spoilers for some TLOU 2 stuff in this fic, along with scenes adapted from it. Keep that in mind going forward.
> 
> And since this is a sequel to Something to Fight For, I'd be remiss not to mention that reading that story first would probably be best, since a WHOLE LOT of stuff gets set up in that book, but if you don't feel like doing that, you should get the general gist of the story from these first couple chapters.
> 
> Anyway, let's carry on!

_6:43 PM — May 17, 2026 (Five weeks before Negan)  
_

_“Man… look at that view. When was the last time you had a picnic? Or even hung out somewhere as cool as this?”_

_“Pfft, never. By the way… in case you’re, like, wondering…? Yes, this is the best date ever. You’re awesome.”_

Ellie was brought back to reality by a gentle push against her arm, eyes ripping away from the valley below. It wasn’t hard to get lost in the memories, but at least these were… good ones. She’d give anything to forget the bad.

Ellie focused on the man she was walking the trail with, who’d decided to grow a beard since they’d gotten back to Jackson. Honestly she had to respect it. _Bet he’s trying to impress Andrea_. She smiled, amused by the thought, but it only lasted long enough for Tommy’s question to sink in.

“Are you with me? What’re you smilin’ about over there?”

She instantly nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. It’s nothing.” _Can’t get distracted, Elle. Not right now._

Tommy’s response was a half chuckle as he turned to face the lowering sun. “Okay…”

He headed down the trail while Ellie’s eyes found the view beyond the cliff once more. How the trees swayed in the wind. How the birds soared through the air, looking for prey. _Good luck, birds. It’s getting hard for us, too._ She only turned away once Tommy spoke up again.

“Anyway, this silent treatment… Man! I mean, I’d forget my own birthday if she didn’t remind me when it was.”

Things between Andrea and Tommy were starting to get… tense, Ellie heard. The idea of the Saviors showing up and knocking down their door had _everyone_ on edge, most of all its leadership. She couldn’t blame either of them. These folks sounded like actual bad guys from a horror movie, except _these_ assholes were real. They’d seen that first-hand in Pittsburgh. Clementine had seen it first-hand when one broke her nose.

Ellie didn’t want to see any more.

“You should just apologize to her,” she said, trying to offer _some sort_ of help for Joel’s brother. Wasn’t exactly her fight to get involved in, but those two seemed to need all the help they could get.

“I _just_ said—” He let out an exasperated laugh, looking back at her. “Okay... for real, what’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” she insisted, “why?”

“I can tell when you’re off.”

 _All I’ve been is off lately..._ She sighed, crossing both arms across her chest. “I just- got a lot on my mind.”

Tommy had that knowing look in his eyes that irritated her to no end. “You let me know if you wanna talk about it,” he said, continuing down the path.

Truth was, things were _good_. Better than good. But every time she thought that, the feeling of guilt caught up and lingered ‘till it drove her mad. Knowing that this would’ve been so much better had the cure been possible. That they’d be able to live fully normal lives, doing... whatever it was they had teenagers doing. Instead, they’re out here clearing infected, same as always. They’re out here being reminded that the world was still shit, and that Jackson was an exception and not the rule.

But rather than voicing any of that, she tossed Tommy a simple “okay,” and followed him towards another ledge, where he peered down the scope of his rifle.

“Got stragglers,” he said, glancing towards her.

“How many?”

“Just a handful,” he answered.

Ellie squinted to make them out across the valley. From here, they looked like little toys, sauntering around dollhouses perched atop a hill. Tommy sent a couple shots their way, downing a few in sprays of blood.

When he held the gun out to her, she met his gaze. “You wanna give it a whirl?”

 _Uh, hell yeah?_ “Are you sure?” She asked, smiling all the while.

He returned the grin, like the cocky son of a bitch he was. “I’m feelin’ generous.”

Chuckling, Ellie accepted the weapon, feeling the weight of it in her hands. She panned over the area ahead while aiming down the scope, and Tommy focused her attention onto a red sign just before the houses. Using it as target practice, it took a couple attempts, with Tommy telling her to aim a bit higher to account for the bullet dropping, but eventually she did hit the sign. _That’s right, fuck you sign._

And as expected, the rest of the infected freaks down there came out of their hidey-holes. “Sound’s attracting them,” Ellie said, smiling back at the nod Tommy sent her way. She didn’t land every shot, but eventually the last one went down with a bullet to the chest.

“That’s all of them.” Tommy sang her praise with a smirk and a pat on the back. “Usually more over this way if you wanna keep shootin’.” He pointed forward and traced his finger down the trail.

Another chuckle got away, although trying to keep her cool was starting to prove worthless. That rifle was _so fucking fun_. “Okay,” she said, following him. She looked towards the specks of bodies in the distance before focusing ahead, and shooting Tommy a question. “Where are they coming from?”

“Hordes like to move through this area in winter,” Tommy said, “they always end up leavin’ behind a few stragglers.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “They do the same routes every year?”

“Like a migration or somethin’.” The guy didn’t sound too sure of himself, but then again, she couldn’t really blame him. Walkers and infected? Migrating like birds? Was pretty out there to think about.

“What’s that about?” She asked while pointing the rifle towards a shed down the valley, where more infected milled about.

“Well… when the barometric pressure reaches a certain… temperature…” He shook his head. “Shit, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

Best explanation she’d ever get; Ellie had to share another laugh, forcing herself to calm down to take the first shot. One after another, she finished off the infected, nose wrinkling at the sight of them tearing away flesh from a dead animal. _Rot in peace, dude._

“Alright, let’s head in,” Tommy broke the silence. “See if Joel and Clem’re back.”

“Sure.”

Tommy looked to her as if she’d forgotten something — obviously she had. “Hand her over,” he said, and Ellie begrudgingly traded rifles with him. _Bye bye, scope._

Her gratitude, though, came a little less begrudging. “Hey, thanks for that,” Ellie told Tommy as he pushed back some tree limbs. “It was just what I needed.”

“Sure,” he answered in kind. Tommy tilted his head to get her to squeeze between the branches blocking their path forward. “Ladies first.” As they headed down the grassy hill, he cleared his throat. “I’m not supposed to say anything… but Joel’s worried about you.”

And there she was thinking he’d take a break from the gossiping. Ellie’s words came with a sigh. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Of course, he didn’t relent. “I’m sure there isn’t,” Tommy ceded, “but if you don’t talk to him, he’s going to think something’s wrong.”

“I talk to him,” Ellie had to do her insisting, not at all sounding like she believed it.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to… just, well, she had _other_ things she liked doing. Other people she wanted to hang out with. Her and Joel were glued together for _months_ on that last stretch of road, and she’d spent so much of that time in her own head. It honestly felt lonely the entire way to Salt Lake.

Okay, maybe it had a lot to do about Clementine. Would she admit that? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“Well, you have to do more than _hi_ and _bye_ ,” Tommy said, and she felt really ticked by the fact that he wasn’t wrong. _Goddamn it, Tommy._

“Okay.” So it was her turn to give in, albeit absentmindedly. “I will try.”

As they passed the horses resting outside the lodge, Tommy gave them a short nod. “At ease, fellas.” Ellie rolled her eyes before following him inside.

The lodge expanded into a lounge area. She saw a bar table; cups, machines and empty food displays to keep it company, stretching across the entrance that led to a small set of stairs and a fireplace crackling in kindled flames. Joel sat on one of the stools, idly plucking away at a guitar and half-content to let the rest of the world go quiet in his absence. While his strings sang their tune, Clementine lounged on the couch by the window, foot swaying in the air, nose stuck in a paperback issue Ellie happened to recognize. Unlike him, she hadn’t noticed anyone coming in.

“You two were raisin’ hell out there,” Joel greeted in his calm, deep voice, and so the guitar was away from his mind.

“Oh, just some stragglers,” Tommy said. “Ellie got to try out my scope.”

In the time Ellie spent looking for a seat, Joel seemed to suppress a smile. “How’d you like it?” She didn’t quite share his. Ellie fiddled with her jean pockets, looking for a quick way out of the conversation.

“Yeah, feels good.”

That was that out of him. Tommy shoved the rifle on top of the lunch table, sitting lazily between the two of them. He leaned his chair so far back, actually, she was expecting him to split something. Joel saw the chance to press on and he didn’t miss it. “D’you remember to, uh… lean into—”

“Lean into the stock. I know.” She shot him down again, wishing she’d gone smoother about doing it. _I mean, that’s only the hundredth time you said it._

He was on a roll, though. Joel’s gaze fell on the guitar again, in the kind of wistful, dismissive look that meant he had something tender in the backburner. “Y’know, I...” He chuckled. “...I think this thing’s gonna be needin’ some new strings soon.”

“You gotta change ‘em?” Honestly, she didn’t know much about guitars at all, but… well, she promised she’d _try_ to talk. Her laugh sounded awkward even to her own ears, and she caught herself glancing at Tommy for an assist. Although, seeing the look on his face, she knew he was in on it. Already on his feet, Joel passed the guitar to Tommy as if they’d rehearsed the act, half-smiles sneaking under their beards. His brother playfully strummed the instrument, listening for the sour notes that crashed into everyone’s ears and playing up the smirk on his lips. “Sounds just fine to me,” Tommy said, needling at him.

“Yeah,” Joel grimaced. “We oughta get some new ones.”

Tommy didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, there’s that music store down there,” he said, rocking himself back and forth with the foot he had over the table.

Clementine, suddenly out of her own little bubble, spoke up from the couch. “Bet they got guitar stuff.”

Seriously? They had _her_ in on it too?!

Tommy feigned a sincere look to his brother. “I mean, that area’s long overdue for a sweep anyway. I can keep watch!”

_Wow._

The worst part was seeing Joel stifle a laugh. He totally knew how bad it was. He knew. “Whaddya say, kiddo?”

“Sure,” Ellie had to say.

With a flick of his wrist, Tommy had the guitar singing again, his fingers dancing between the dissonant chords in a way that almost sounded mocking. Joel nudged at his shoulder, giving him another something to laugh about. “And that’s our cue.”

Joel went on ahead, shrugging off any sense of rush as he tended the horses outside. But Ellie didn’t follow straight away. She breathed another tired, overly loud sigh, and turned towards the girl on the opposite side of the lounge. “You sure you don’t wanna come?”

Sneaking a glance past the wrinkled pages, Clementine sounded like she actually put some thought into it — or, just pretended to. “No,” she said, with half a mind elsewhere. “No, you two got this.”

Ellie sighed, heading after Joel. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Alright… on me, kiddo.”

Ellie climbed onto the horse next to his, giving it a well-deserved stroke of its mane, before following Joel downhill. The afternoon sun made it hard to see where they were going, but at least Shimmer knew when to hop over a log. Joel watched her out of the corner of his eye, clearing his throat.

“So…” _Ugh, small talk,_ Ellie groaned to herself as Joel let the word hang in the air. “You an’ Tommy cross anythin’ when you was out?”

“Just the few we saw from the ridge,” she answered, ducking underneath a tree branch hanging over the trail. “You?”

“Oh, ya know, found two runners in a house.” There was that pause again. The one that typically ended with something she didn’t really wanna talk about. “Carl tells me you’re handling your own quite well on the group patrols. He’s even recommendin’ you for paired patrols.” He definitely didn’t like that, she could tell.

She couldn’t find it in her to blame him, given what happened the last time she went outside the walls in a pair; Dwight had been found dead a few days later, and she’d been among the suspects. Even now, that shadow hadn’t quite gone away yet. At least Tommy seemed like he’d let it go.

“I think you’re still a bit young for it,” Joel continued, robbing a scoff out of Ellie.

“I’m a better shot than almost all of them,” she said, an edge in her voice giving way to indignance. “And I have more experience than most of the new recruits who—”

“Look,” Joel interrupted her, clutching the reins of his horse a bit tighter. “If you think you’re ready, I trust you.”

“Okay,” she said, tentatively, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Thanks.”

“Can you just do me a favor and start with the shorter routes for now? Y’know, see how you handle them.”

“Alright.” Looking at her track record, Ellie hadn’t the room to argue, but at least Joel was willing to let her do it. Earning back his trust after what happened was taking time. At least he didn’t pry into it too much; how she’d managed to keep the Clementine thing under wraps for this long was anyone’s guess.

Joel glanced towards her as they rounded a corner of the trail, towards a creek separating them from a hotel. Shimmer’s hooves splashed the water around while Joel struggled to let himself be heard over them. “You remember those Savage Starlight comic books that you’re into?”

_You mean the ones that Clementine’s been blazing through the past couple weeks?_

“Yeah.”

“Tommy an’ I found some when we were movin’ through that school the other day.”

“Did ya like ‘em?” Ellie asked, sending him a smile.

“Oh, y’know, it’s not really my cup of tea, but…” He trailed off, thinking it over. “Doctor Daniela Star, I mean, she’s pretty…”

“She’s a savage.” She laughed, more than ready to finish that sentence for him.

“What she does to Captain Ryan in that deathmatch— woo…”

“Yeah. I mean… He definitely _deserved_ it, but…”

Joel returned the chuckle, shaking his head. “It was a nice twist how they escaped, though.”

He was trying. Maybe she needed to try, too. She gave him one final, drier laugh, saying “you’re funny,” before letting things quiet down. A barricade blocked their path up to the road, so Joel turned back towards her, stopping his horse.

“Music store’s up that way…” He pointed towards a sign obscured by trees ahead, hopping off his horse. “We’re gonna have to leave the horses here.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” As she jumped off hers, she gave its muzzle a gentle scratching. “Hey Shimmer, don’t get into trouble.”

Together, they climbed over the barricade and headed back onto the grassy road. The sign Joel was talking about came into view up ahead. _Music Center Jackson. Very creative name, guys._ Joel pointed it out as he ushered her forth, towards a van with a trailer attached to the back.

“Need a boost?” He asked, and she instantly assured him with a shake of her head. “I got it.” With a running start, Ellie grabbed the edge of the trailer’s roof, pulling herself up with a grunt until she finally vaulted over it.

The path beyond came to a very sudden stop. Ellie looked over the massive hole dug into the ground, filled with standing water and a couple rusted-out cars where the road should be. “Uh… I don’t think we can go this way.”

“ _What?_ ” came Joel’s incredulous voice, who was busy climbing over the trailer next to her. Hands settled on his hips, he sighed. “Well, damn. Used to be able to swim across this…”

“Okay, so…” She began, crossing her arms over her chest. “...Now what?”

“Well,” he began, eyes falling on the building next to them. “If you’re up for it, we can try cuttin’ through that hotel.”

“I’m up for it.”

The door was locked, of course. She jiggled it bitterly, shoving against it. Nothing. “C’mon,” she breathed, side-eyeing Joel as he fell to one knee, looking underneath some roofing that’d fallen off the awning.

“Oh, that might be somethin’.” He sounded a bit too relieved for that something to be _more_ roof. When Joel lifted his gaze to her, that relief turned into worry. “You think you can fit in there?”

She wasn’t _that_ small, but… “Well, it’s worth a shot.” Before dropping to the ground, she gave him a shrug that _probably_ didn’t make him feel any better about it.

Joel put his back into lifting the rubble off the ground, allowing her just a few inches of entry. The grimace on him only told her to go faster about it. “Careful now.” She gave him a quiet “yup,” before crawling underneath it. This part she hated the most: how at any second that thing could split in half and crush her. She could feel it digging at her back already.

Inside, Ellie could barely make out the dresser to her left, and as she pushed herself back to her feet, she pulled out her flashlight, clipping it to her shirt. “I’m through!” She called. “Hold on!”

“ _Alright!_ ”

The hotel looked picked clean; at least anywhere _she_ looked. The green carpeting was stained red in some places, and a yellow vending machine stood silently in the far corner. Hand hovering over her pistol, she made her way to the front door, giving the knob a solid pull before making the jump to unlatch the lock at the top. He stood on the other side, arm rested on the old wooden door as she rolled out the proverbial carpet.

“Well, hello,” Ellie smiled, unable to help herself.

Joel lowered his head in greeting. “Howdy.”

The man pushed away from the door, clutching onto his backpack straps as he lifted his head and gave her a once-over. Ellie leaned forward. “You impressed?”

“Nope. Y’just too skinny, you need to eat more.”

“Ugh…” She rolled her eyes as she shut the door behind him. “You’re welcome!”

They looked for a way forward, and Joel eventually locked eyes with the vending machine, waving her over. “Ellie, here! I think I see a way through, but we got spores.” Reaching for his gas mask, he whispered the rest of the words. “Put your mask on.”

Joel was, of course, _not_ referring to any new, mutated, Ellie-killing spores — but to the latest M.O. since settling back into Jackson. And by the way? She hated wearing the damn thing. Could barely see anything in those fucking goggles. “Do I have to? It’s just us.”

“What if we run into someone?” Joel asked, his stern voice filtered through the mask.

“Okay,” she sighed, grabbing her own out from her backpack. “Fine.”

Once Joel pushed the vending machine out of the way, he slipped through, looking around as Ellie followed. “You gotta be smart about this,” he went on, already pulling from the lectures he was practicing since they first went out on patrols again. “You stop wearing that mask, kiddo, and eventually you’re going to slip up in front of someone you shouldn’t.”

“I’ve never slipped,” she said, and it was only partially true. She hadn’t slipped since getting back to Jackson. Nothing could be changed about what happened with Clementine and Lee, and later, the people Tommy got involved with their own cure plans. She didn’t like acknowledging that Carl knew, too.

“You ain’t told nobody... new, have you?” He asked slowly, looking back at her. “Not Fionn, or…?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. She’d learned her lesson the last time. If Tommy and Joel wanted to keep it under wraps, then she’d follow that to the letter. People didn’t need to get their hopes up…

“’Kay,” Joel breathed. “Good.”

A hole in the wall provided their way forward, and as Ellie looked over all the musty bed coverings and overturned chairs, she thought it was her turn to ask something. “You ever been in here before?”

“Naw,” he answered. “We’ve just patrolled the streets.” His eyes were drawn to the fungal growth on the wall, and she could only imagine the frown on his face. “Feelin’ like a bit of an oversight now…”

They searched the rooms for a little while, and Joel’s attention focused back to a dead clicker in one of the rooms, a machete buried deep into its neck. “Looks like it’s from a while back,” he said, giving it a once over before standing up.

“When’d the last patrol go through here?”

“Not sure.” Joel’s breath came hoarse, uncertain.

“Is it one of us…?”

“Nah. Only people went missing from Jackson’re them teenagers from last year.” She didn’t know much about them either, actually. Nothing other than the fact that they’d left after she and Joel headed off for the Fireflies. “This one’s too old,” he added. “Probably just roamed in.” She watched him tear the blade out from inside the infected corpse, half-glad she couldn’t take in any of the smell.

Reaching the reception, Joel slowly opened the door, stopping after a few inches. “Ellie, c’mere.” He didn’t need to explain; she could hear the infected gurgling on the other side.

Reaching out for her door knob, she looked at him. “We _are_ on patrol, right?”

He didn’t seem as keen. Looking at the clicker standing across the way, she was almost on team ‘shut the door and try another way through’ herself. Clearing this place out took priority, though. “Okay,” Joel exhaled, “Let’s take ‘em out.”

—

Ellie found herself huffing as sundown approached, taking a second to catch her breath. There were way more infected walking about than in your average patrol, bordering on the dozens. They’d spent the rest of the day clearing out the hotel, and as the last swarm was put down by a clip of her pistol, Ellie’s relief came in the form of a weak laugh. “Joel… I think we did it.”

She was jealous at just how calm he sounded in response. “Think so. Good job, kiddo.”

“So… what do you say we give up on those strings for today?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he huffed right along with her, pushing open the door leading to the conference room. “But I think our only way out is forward now…”

The next room was blocked off, too, but it did look like they could fit through an opening between the wall and the next if they shimmied through.

Following Joel, she took it one step at a time, watching as chunks of dust dropped from the ceiling, walls hugging them so tightly they’d claw at anyone’s claustrophobia. Ellie held onto a metal pipe while crouching underneath a gap, and her eyes widened as it came apart with a metallic scream. The floor rumbled beneath their feet, a roar deafening their ears as something huge collided with the wall, breaking it apart like a piece of cardboard. Two massive hands grabbed hold of her and they threw her body across the hallway like it was nothing.

The girl yelled in panic, scrambling backwards in the dark as Joel blew a hole into the bloater’s back with a shotgun, shouting to get its attention. With a groan she pushed herself to her feet, reaching into her backpack for the one thing she hadn’t told Joel she’d brought along. Stuffing a rag into a bottle of vodka, she caught it on fire, throwing it towards the massive fucking monster now chasing him around. It hit the side of its face, bursting into flames.

The big, fat, ugly infected roared, slapping at its burned would-be lips to try and put out the flames, as Joel continued to shoot shell after shell into it.

Once it had managed to put out enough of the flames, it rushed her, bursting through walls, tables, and whatever stood in its way. The bloater yanked her arm back as it stuffed its fingers into her mouth. _Nonononononono, oh fuc—!_ She tried clawing at it, but that wasn’t going to do her any fucking good.

Just as it was about to dislocate her jaw, a machete burrowed into its arm, causing it to let her go and focus on Joel, who kept slicing into the arm until he managed to cut it off, before aiming for the head. When it stopped moving, he finally spared the time for a deep breath, lifting her up with a shaky, “C’mon…”

“Shit…” She breathed, unable to take her eyes off the freaky fucker as she leaned against the wall.

“That was too close,” Joel had said, echoing her thoughts. “Sure,” came Ellie’s response, honestly too fucking elated to be alive to hold back her chuckle. “But we fucking did it.”

“Heh. Yeah, we sure did.”

“You good…?” She asked as she pushed away from the wall, searching for the quickest way out.

Joel stroked painfully at his swinging shoulder. “Other than being really old?” He said, probably hoping she wouldn’t agree with him. “Ain’t nothin’ a solid night of sleep won’t shake off.”

As he pushed some furniture away from the next door, Ellie called after him. “What are you doing? What if there’s like, two bloaters back there?”

He shook his head. “It’ll be fine.” Opening the door, he lurched forward with his shotgun raised, searching every corner his flashlight hit. When nothing came out, he declared, “Spores are clear.”

_Good, ‘cause I’ve already lost my mask._

“Quite the fight back there, huh?” Ellie asked, peering into what looked like a gym before crossing through it.

“Haven’t seen a bloater since gettin’ here,” Joel said, eliciting a chuckled “yeah” out of her.

They’d gotten so fucking lucky.

“Clementine is gonna lose her shit when she hears about this.”

Joel’s fingers crawled under the mask to rip it off his face, a heave to follow from his tepid beard. Despite increasing his pace, Joel kept his eyes on her — his own kind of concern making the lines on his face that much more noticeable. He pursed his lips, letting their small triumph sink in before they deviated into a smirk. The old man was no doubt entertained by the fact that it took a _bloater_ to break through her walls. And not just literally.

“What about, uh… Carl and Lydia? Ain’t you dyin’ to brag to those two?”

“Carl? Maybe. Lydia? Not so much.” Going anywhere near Lydia was a death sentence in of itself.

“What’s the deal with them two anyway?” He sounded genuinely confused, and Ellie thought he must’ve been better off for it. “They’re datin’, right?”

“Uh.” _Well._ There was a word for it. Certainly wasn’t dating. Ellie shrugged her shoulders, half of a sneer sneaking across her lips. “On and off. Why?”

“Just wonderin’.”

He only let the silence breathe for so long. Joel scratched at the hair on his chin, looking an awful lot like Tommy did that morning. He just couldn’t let it go. “What ‘bout you? Are you—?”

“What? Losing my shit?” She let out a dry laugh. “I mean, yeah.”

He coughed the parchedness out from his throat, eyes glossing over the dumbbells scattered around the gym before they landed back on her. “Datin’. I mean.”

She wouldn’t dare meet his gaze, but that didn’t stop the smile from creeping onto her face. Her voice dripped with sarcasm, even if it served only to keep from telling the whole truth. “Maybe.”

Joel had himself a quiet chuckle. “Maybe,” he said back to her, looking to match her tone.

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, genuinely curious. They’d always tried to keep it quiet; not out of necessity, but given things going on in Jackson, she didn’t want to deal with any _gossip_. Lydia would definitely be the one to do it.

Once they’d made their way back to the halls, Joel seeped back into his serious, gruffer voice as one hand slid down his neck. “Ain’t none of my business, kiddo.” But he did shoot her another glance, as shyly as Joel could afford to look. “Wouldn’t kill you to tell me some, though.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, ready to push this aside for now. “I’ll try. Just gotta get out of here first.”

He settled for an “alright,” pushing his weight against one of the hotel doors. “Better get on with it. I’m awful at suspense.”

The door had opened by a few inches, just enough that Ellie could fit through. “You think you can squeeze through there?” Doing as she was told, she took a look around, making sure they were alone.

“See what it is?” Joel called, and she turned to start pushing the trash counter out of the way. “Yeah,” she said, pulling back the door as she finally gave it enough clearance. “Okay.”

As Joel entered, Ellie approached a corpse, which had turned into nothing but a skeleton by now. A brown jacket covering bones, while a pair of jeans barely held onto what was left of the legs. A backpack hung haphazardly onto its back.

“Ellie!” Joel’s voice had reached her before the sound of a clicker’s screams did. Stumbling backwards, she watched Joel put a bullet into its brain. Letting out a breath, she met the back of Joel’s head with her eyes.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes fell back onto the backpack, looking at it closer. “Hey, Joel.” Her voice had grown quiet. “Huh?” He called, nearly as silent. “I think it’s them. The couple that ran away last year.” The J label on their backpack was the dead giveaway. That was Jackson’s brand.

He frowned, bending to take a closer look at the dead clicker. Ellie’s eyes found a note sitting on a table, and her fingers dug into the paper.

“I think you’re right,” Joel had said, while Ellie read over the first few sentences of the note.

“’Jackson is a wonderful place, but we got tired of hearing the stories of people suffering everywhere else. We wanted to save lives. We had good intentions. We didn’t make it an hour before running into a horde. Now we’re bitten. We’ve decided we’re going to end our lives instead of turning.’” She paused. Swallowed. Breathed in. “Please tell our family and friends that we’re sorry. Love Adam and Sidney.’” She turned the page over, seeing if there was anything on the back. Joel stood up, not saying a word.

“’I shot her,’” Ellie read. “’I can’t take my own life. I’m a fucking coward. Adam.’”

“Jesus…” Joel rubbed the side of his face, taking in a deep breath.

But it wasn’t that that got her blood pumping. “If only they were immune, right?”

She could feel his eyes on her, but refused to look up. He cleared his throat, looking away. “Well. Let’s… Let’s go get Clementine and Tommy... and we can get these bodies back to Jackson.”

Joel started to head for the door, but she couldn’t move. Lowering the note in her hands, she finally looked up. “After you took me out of the Firefly hospital, you said there were dozens of people like me.”

Joel, while it took him a while to do it, eventually nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what they told me.”

Now she couldn’t look away. “I’ve never met another immune person before. Have you?”

“They could be hidin’ it,” Joel tried to say. “You do.”

She placed the note down. “Do you believe that?”

Realization began to dawn in his eyes, and his jaw hardened. “Is now really the time for this?”

“We traveled across the entire country to bring me to the Fireflies…” Ellie said, her voice rising. Voice breaking. “Lee lost his fucking arm. I nearly lost you. You really mean to tell me that you couldn’t’ve just given them more time to figure it out?”

Joel’s expression was unreadable. His lips sat still under the grey of his beard, and his gaze was kept cold and even. The man’s voice, however, left him as a harsh, low timbre. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Joel,” Ellie said, her voice growing shrill as her words started to blend together. “I had so many questions for them, and you just pulled me out while I was still unconscious, and—”

“ _Ellie_ ,” he called, as she ran the words by him. Joel lifted his hands and raised his voice. “Ellie!” And as he looked into her eyes, brows collapsed askew, the man spoke his truth in its twisted clarity. “There. Was. No. Cure. There’s nothin’ that could’ve helped these people or anybody else.” In the heat of his words, Joel’s gaze opened its way to sympathy. “I know you wish things were different — I wish things were different.

“But they ain’t.”

He breathed slowly, never breaking eye contact, never giving Ellie an inch. “Now we need to get these kids back to their families. ‘Less there’s somethin’ else you’d like to rehash.”

Her eyes glistened with tears she refused to let drop, grinding teeth together until she had to force herself to stop. When it came time for her to say something, she said her piece softly. Defeated, though she hadn’t given up just yet.

“No.”

Only then did he break his gaze, when it suddenly seemed so hard to maintain one. Joel ushered her forth with a sway of his head, bearing the weight of silence with him.


	2. Ranch

_9:26 PM - July 30, 2026  
_

_Who were you?_ The question burned in Ellie’s mind as she sketched the girl in the photo into her notebook. Her long black hair. Her long nose. That wide smile.

Music filtered through her walkman’s earphones, filling the emptiness of that little cabin behind their house. Ellie hadn’t gotten around to checking out the place until now. The mess there was, at least, easier to deal with than the one she’d left in her bedroom. No broken glass. No bad memories. Just… some stranger’s workshop. Bits and pieces of every electronic you can think of, scattered around a table that had once been used to eat at.

She had a feeling it was this girl’s. More of an inkling than actually knowing, though. The room felt like a teenager’s dream hangout spot. She’d been in here once before, when she found that Nintendo. She’d moved it out to her bedroom, but now that it was gone, she wished she’d just left it where it was.

She was just getting to the girl’s slender frame when her chair suddenly jerked to one side. Ellie jumped in her seat, racing to rip off her earphones.

“Jesus,” she breathed, watching her pencil roll away across the table. “You almost gave a heart attack.”

As Ellie gathered her things and stood up, she heard Joel’s voice grow behind her shoulder. “I tried knockin’, but…”

 _Yeah. Earphones. Got it._ Ellie thought to herself as she leaned against the desk, meeting Joel’s gaze for only a moment. These days, it only grew harder to. With Tommy’s death, and with _so much_ more.

“Hey,” she finally made herself say, only looking up once Joel greeted her back in that barely-whisper thing he did so often since the incident. Taking in a deep breath, she asked, “What’s up, Joel?”

“Just checking in.” Even he didn’t believe that. Joel paced the room, checking out the woodwork as if he’d been the one to build it himself. “Folks are… y’know, talking about how impressed they are with you, and how well you’re… helpin’ out.”

There was a pause, and Ellie’s eyes fell again. “That’s… good.”

“Yeah.” She watched him pace some more, tracing circles around her. His next words came with diligence. “Tommy and I, uh… went out riding. Before. And he, uh…” He let out a wistful breath that seemed to carry more weight than Joel was letting on.”He told me a joke, and I’d thought about you. It’s, um…” Joel’s tongue slapped the roof of his mouth, making for a really sloppy clicker impression, as he snuck a finger through his beltloop to jog his memory back. “Oh shoot, now I forgot it, uh…”

“It was somethin’ about a clock. How do you—?” Ellie, who was well into searching the table for a fast-forward switch, lifted her gaze to set him down smoothly. “Joel,” she sighed. “It’s pretty late, and I gotta get up in a few hours—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know,” he had the sense to interject. “And I’m gonna get out of your hair, I just, um…” Ellie could feel the sound of something clicking then, and it hadn’t been the tongue type. Joel aimed his finger at the door, and back to her, eyes lighting up like stars. “I wanna show you somethin’. Just gimme a second.” The finger turned into the respective second he needed, and she complied.

Without Joel to hold them, those eyes of hers trailed right back to the sketch she was making, rough lines and all. _Wonder where you went, what’s-your-face._

Light footsteps brought her back to Earth. Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed, and her breath came out more amused than weary. “What’s this?” Stepping through the open door, Joel admired the polish of his pet project, letting a smile settle on his lips as he blew on the chips of wood. “Some folks call this a gee-tar.”

“Funny.” It wasn’t.

He shifted his attention to her, calm as the morning air. “You wanna hear somethin’?”

Ellie hid her surprise behind a hint of a smile. She half-expected that to be another joke. “Okay,” the girl told him.

“Okay,” the man told her back.

Joel pulled a chair to Ellie’s line of sight, listening as its legs left dents on the plain wooden floor. Guitar at his arms, he lay his back carefully, flinching at the pain that shot at his side when the weight of his body traveled down to his waist. “Promise me,” Joel heaved, “that you won’t laugh.” He sounded so defenseless when he put it that way. “I won’t laugh,” she said, genuinely trying to put Joel at ease. “I won’t.”

He watched carefully as she sat herself down right in front of him, watching with expectant eyes so bright and green they matched the hue of his shirt. Joel breathed a long, vulnerable breath, and as his fingers traced the strings, he felt them fight back in unease.

Until the hair on Joel’s lips parted to make way for a low, deep voice.

_If I ever were to lose you_

_I’d surely lose myself_

_Everythin’ I have found here_

_I’ve not found by myself_

_Try an’ sometimes you’ll succeed_

_To make this man o’me_

_All my stolen missin’ parts_

_I’ve no need for anymore_

_‘Cause I believe_

_An’ I believe ‘cause I can see_

_Our future days_

_Days of you an’ me_

As his hand lay gently over the rosette, the air he’d managed before was all but gone. Joel forced himself to stare up from the headstock and into Ellie’s starstruck eyes, sighing through his nose. “There you go.”

“Well,” she mused. “That didn’t suck.” They both stifled a laugh, though only Joel fell prey to his chuckle. “I’ll take what I can get.” He stood up slowly, clutching the instrument while sharing her smile. And then he extended it to her. “She’s yours.”

“No,” Ellie gasped. “No, no, no, no. I don’t know the first thing about—”

“I promised,” Joel tempered her words, “that I’d teach you how to play.” Ellie could only look at him for so long before — at the risk of falling into a pattern — her gaze ran from his one last time. She ran her fingers over the guitar Joel had made for her, and that was that. “You did.”

Joel nodded in recognition, bringing a hand to his chin. “So what do you say? Tomorrow night, first lesson?”

Ellie smiled, weakly. “Deal.”

As Joel turned to leave, Ellie tilted her head, biting her lip. As he reached the threshold, she called, “Did… Did you remember the joke?”

That had him stop, turning around an expression full of thought. He leaned against the doorframe. “Um…” When the joke finally returned to him, he said, “What is the downside to eatin’ a clock?”

Ellie tried to give it a second to come to her. _You can go back for seconds, but there aren’t any thirds? No, that’s ridiculous._ Finally, she shrugged her shoulders, puffing out her lips in defeat.

“It’s time consumin’”

She could only snort out a soft chuckle, shaking her head.

“That’s so dumb.”

He grinned. “Yeah.”

He reached out for the door handle, giving her one last look as he readied himself to close it.

“Good night, kiddo.”

Once he was gone, she was left with her thoughts. And a _guitar_. She plucked a string, listening as it reverberated.

She decided, then, that maybe tomorrow she actually had something to look forward to.

* * *

_3:28 PM - July 31, 2026_

Ellie wiped sweat off her brow as she rode down a trail near the furthest reaches of Jackson, on a horse with a temper comparable to her own. Her blue button-up shirt was left open, hoping that the faint gusts of wind blowing through the trees would cool her down, but instead she was left with a sweaty tank top and the desire to shed the button-up as soon as she could.

This territory was familiar. Cabins abandoned and overturned for supplies, trails that led through the mountains, and eventually, a ranch nestled deep between the peaks. She recognized it immediately, breathing a small ‘whoa’ to stop her horse. _Hidden Pines_ … She read the name silently, frowning. A year ago, she’d found herself here after Joel tried to leave her with Lee and Clementine. Back then, her emotions kept her from realizing the beauty of the landscape surrounding it. Out here, she could believe that Jackson didn’t exist. That the Saviors weren’t out there, watching their every move.

“C’mon, Shimmer.” She kicked the horse to get it moving at a light trot, stopping at the fence. She hopped off, grabbing its reins as she opened the gate, heading inside. She ran her hand over the horse’s short hair as she tied it to a post, saying a soft “I’ll be right back, buddy.” The horse neighed in response.

Inside, things were moved. Some neatly cleaned up, others as messy as they were before. Saviors, probably, looking for more supplies. She ran her hand along the railing as she went up the stairs, almost reminiscent. Being here again was hard, even after all this time. Things were different. Better and worse all at the same time. She almost missed it.

Finding the door open to the room she’d once been in, she headed inside, plopping herself down in that seat by the window. The sun filtered through the curtains, dust casting tiny shadows on the wall as they floated through the air. The diary was still where she left it, and she picked it up quietly, flipping through the pages.

Still bizarre, she found herself thinking, smiling faintly as she read through a new page. She was content to stay there for a while longer, until it came time to head back to town.

* * *

The little paws on the ground gave it away. Too small to be a wolf’s and way too big to be a rabbit’s. “You’re close by, aren’t you?” Clem would be a lot more chipper about it if she could tell them apart from a dog’s.

It’d taken weeks to get the hang of it. Walkers were easy, but this…? She could swing it around all she wanted, that knife of hers felt so useless. When Clementine finally carved herself a spear off the branch of an oak tree, she thought it had to have been desperation that caused it to work so well. Prototype after prototype were tossed away until it hit her like a slap to the face: attaching the knife to it. It was a bunny who’d gotten its leg hurt, separated from the rest, that wound up being her first emergency dinner. Now she planned on moving further up the food chain. That, or die trying.

Those berries she’d found a ways down the hill were her secret weapon. Sure, it took an awful lot of practice. Chasing wounded animals was one thing… throwing a spear, that was nothing like darts. Even now, the thought of going one more day without eating made Clementine’s breath go haywire.

Lucky for Clem, it didn’t take more than an hour for her target to fall for the bait. Quick and lean — and too skinny. A coyote that looked as hungry as she did. If only she could afford to pass it up. Clementine left her hiding spot, lifted the spear all the way to her ear, and flung it with a powerful step forward before the animal could flee. It ripped right through him, making a fine mess. Relief had to be cut short for the sake of beating sundown. Finally something good to eat.

Clementine walked back to the ranch with the carcass over her shoulder, looking awfully proud for someone at the end of her rope. If she could just… get enough of those to trade for bullets. If the guards ever let her near again… _Don’t bet all your chips yet. You’re doing okay. We’re doing okay._

What spooked her next was no infected, though she really wished it had been. Seriously. A horse…? So many bad things ran through Clem’s head, she could hardly keep up with one. Leaving the rifle inside was a rookie mistake, and she knew well it may as well have been her last. _Idiot. Idiot._

Clementine left the coyote by the entrance. Knowing every in and out, every floorboard that made a squeak, getting upstairs quietly was as simple as being patient. The page-flipping was so obvious, whoever was there had to think it was abandoned.

The teen peeked her muddy features through the door, but they returned different. What her instincts told her, what her thoughts screamed at her, they all said something different. For Clementine, the only thing to do was panic, panic, and _panic_. Ellie was there…! Ellie was in her room! Hows and whens were almost unimportant. Her heart was beating for all types of reasons and she had to do something before—

Sudden as that, her foot had no floor left to step on. Clem fell on her ass and didn’t bother getting up. Nothing could buy the time she needed to come up with what to say. Clementine shut her eyes and waited for Ellie to find her. She’d start thinking after.

For Ellie, the noise had been enough to have her dropping the diary to the seat in an instant, pistol in hand so fast that she was struggling to click down the hammer. When she made it to her feet, she approached the open door in slow steps, weapon raised. Not knowing what was out there frightened her the most; it could’ve been infected — maybe one — or some _body_ , and no one from Jackson was supposed to come out this far. That didn’t leave a lot of good options left to choose from.

With a harsh tone and a shaking grip, she raised her voice. “Come out!”

If it was infected, they’d rush the room. She had to hope that it was just one. She could take one. More would take some… improvising.

When nothing immediately came, she quickly dismissed that notion, her anxiety increasing as soon as it disappeared.

“I’m not fucking around,” she called out, hoping that’d get whoever was out there to show themselves.

It was when the figure walked into the doorway, that very instant that she recognized her, that she lowered the gun to her waist, finger pushing the hammer forward. It took longer for her to realize that she wasn’t hallucinating. Seconds ticked by, mouth agape, before the only thing her body could do was blind her with tears.

Feelings blended together, leaving her utterly speechless. Being happy and angry and upset and her heart beating a million miles a second so quickly it was a wonder if it had ever beaten at a normal rate.

Clementine was really there. After spending so long trying to come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t, it felt like she’d received a blow to the head. Dizzy, she stumbled towards the wall, stopping herself with her injured arm. The world took a while to right itself, but when it eventually did, she refused to look away from the girl standing at the door frame, as if she’d disappear if she did.

She looked smaller, not in stature, but being out here had caused her to lose a few pounds. Haggard. Ellie almost forgot what it was like to have to hunt to survive, but they’d been there, not too long ago. The haircut Ellie had given her didn’t look nearly so clean anymore. Frizzy. Humidity was a bitch.

“It’s…” She tried to say, her mouth dry. Her back rested against the wall, unable to move from that spot even if she wanted to run across the room and hug the shit out of her best friend, and then punch her arm as hard as she could. But, what if she didn’t want her to? She didn’t even want to say goodbye before…

“This feels like deja vu,” she finally said, trying to swallow the lump forming in her throat, eyes finally falling.

A single footstep reached her ears, before a quiet voice followed it. “You okay?”

“I—”

Her stomach was twisting around itself, broiling with a feeling much worse than butterflies. That feeling of deja vu remained, of a room much smaller than this one, and an entirely different person having come back into her life after disappearing. This time, she couldn’t muster up the energy to shout. There was an emptiness to it, like she’d finally cleaned up the mess she kept in her head, only to return to that room later. There just wasn’t much to look at, a past that was too hard to, and a future that was even worse.

Yet she kept looking, kept wanting it to go back to the way it was before, even if she knew it wouldn’t. She ignored Clementine’s question, not really having an answer readily available. She wasn’t okay, obviously, but none of them were anymore.

Energy sapping away, she slid against the wall, planting herself on the ground. Arms resting on her knees, she matched Clementine’s gaze once more.

“I… thought about what I’d say if I saw you again,” she said, voice as low as a mouse. “I know you probably don’t want to, given that—” She choked, her stomach feeling worse by the second. _I was worried about you._ She wanted to say that to her, but couldn’t find the strength.

The other girl closed the gap between them, resting on her knees. “Are you kidding me…?” She asked, taking both of Ellie’s hands and pulling them near. “I missed you so much.”

And just like that, that sickening feeling in her stomach passed. Hands held in hers, Ellie’s entire body relaxed, pulling away just to push herself to her feet and wrap her arms around the baseball-capped girl in the tightest hug she could muster, burying her face into the girl’s shoulder. She hadn’t forgiven her, not yet, but that part of her that needed her embrace, it didn’t care. Here they were, despite everything that happened, and she’d be the first one to admit that she was being the biggest sap in the universe.

When it eventually came time to pull away, Ellie lingered close, a small smile on her face as she let out a barely contained chuckle. “Happy belated birthday, by the way.” It had been all she could think about the day before. “Sorry I didn’t bring any gifts.”

“I’m gonna cook you something,” Clementine said, “then — then we’ll talk. ‘Kay?”

All Ellie could do was give her a simple nod, focusing on normalizing her breath as Clementine walked away. The very idea that she was there was still difficult to digest, as if the world was tormenting her and maybe this really was nothing but a hallucination. And, as Clementine left the room, Ellie settled back onto that seat by the window, grumbling as the radio on her belt roared to life.

“ _Ellie, check in_.”

_Tripp. Fucking asshole._

“I’m checking out some stuff outside the zone, will get back to you when I’m on my way back, over.” Ellie held the radio in her hand for a second longer, waiting for Tripp’s obvious reply.

“ _Alright, but don’t take too long. Your old man’s already busting my ass about sending you out alone so much._ ”

Radio back on her belt, turned off, Ellie slowly explored that ranch. Now that she was really looking, it became obvious that Clementine had been living here for some time. Stashes of stuff were placed around; a bedroom turned into the closest thing she’d have to an armory, which only consisted of a couple weapons. She didn’t want to know what Clem did without plumbing. That part of life outside walls always sucked.

Eventually, she found her way down the stairs, noticing a dead coyote left on the ground near the entrance. Her horse whinnied outside, looking towards her in the open door. Smiling, crossing her arms across her chest, she found Clementine in the kitchen. Ellie leaned against the open doorway, watching her movements.

The kitchen wasn’t like anywhere else in the house. As tidy as the infirmary, and just as clean. Wasn’t difficult to keep that way, Ellie imagined, given that Clementine barely had anything to put in it. Clem had picked up a knife from the counter, one of those dull kitchen kinds.

Finally, Ellie broke the silence. “So… what’s for dinner? That coyote out front?” It was a piss-poor conversation starter, but she’d say anything to avoid the inevitable that was fast approaching.

“Yeah, smartass,” came Clementine’s reply. “Got any more food I’m not seeing?” She giggled to herself before moving on to skinning the animal.

Ellie had busied herself with her pack as Clementine prepared the meal: some kind of stew by the looks of it. With no spoon in sight, she’d used another knife to stir it with. And with the coyote all but cubes in the pot, it must’ve been a weird sight to see. Clem served Ellie the larger bowl atop a coffee table by the window, and kept the tinier one for herself, sitting down first. Clementine barely looked up at her as she started diving her fingers into it for the big pieces, drinking the rest straight from the source. Must’ve been the norm without a spoon.

For Ellie, it wasn’t exactly a five-star meal, but nothing outside the walls were these days. Out here, you made do with what you had, and it wasn’t like Clementine could just go grocery shopping back home. Ellie probably would’ve known about it.

“How’s Lee?” Clementine asked, leaving Ellie to stew on what she wanted to answer that with, all while clutching her bowl of stew in her hands.

“He asks if I’ve found you, every time I see him,” she admitted quietly. It was all he could think about. She didn’t blame him; for a time, it was all she could think about too. Yet time, work, and a Scottish girl with a brain better than hers, they all helped her focus on what needed done.

“I just tell him ‘she clearly doesn’t want to be found, since she left without a word.’” There was a hint of resentment in her voice, though it was masked under a calm expression as she took another gulp of her stew. “He doesn’t have much to distract himself with until school starts up next month.”

Clementine’s fingers tapped on the table, no rhythm to speak of, while watching Ellie. “What about you?” She asked.

Like many things about this encounter, Ellie had found herself uncomfortable once again. What was she supposed to say? That she gave up on Clementine being out there, waiting to be found? That it became easier to live her life not thinking about her? That, even right now, Ellie was still pissed about it? Those weren’t exactly things she’d want to hear, but some of them she’d have to. Eventually.

She was starting to wish she had Kat’s bourbon instead of this soup. The courage it’d give her would be really fucking help right about then.

She took in a sharp breath through the nose, shifting in her seat. “It was just easier to not have time to think about it.”

Clementine reached for Ellie’s hand again, as if that’d somehow make things better. “My turn?” She asked, and Ellie hardly gave her an answer. Clementine would say her piece no matter what.

“I’ve been so crap to you. I should’ve said something, but I — I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

Ellie hardly wanted her pity. She just wanted her girlfriend back. Her best friend. That girl she’d survived so long with, right by her side. But, as Clementine continued, she realized that that girl had changed so much more than Ellie was willing to accept.

“I’m gonna wait out a few months. Try to get something to trade for a horse. Something big.” Ellie began to wish that she could just turn her ears off. “Then, I’m… gone. For good. Back to Salt Lake.”

Clementine’s grip on Ellie’s hand loosened, then fell away. Her eyes were focused on Ellie’s, intense even in light of what she’d said.

“You’re just going to have to forget about me.”

Hearing those words, Ellie was left dumbfounded. That was it? She was just gonna walk away, just like that…? She could feel her face growing hot, an indignant rage bubbling to the surface. What was Clementine expecting to find out there?

“Clementine, there’s **nothing** in Salt Lake. If the Fireflies haven’t already left they’re, they’re probably dead. The whole fucking city’s a death trap. I nearly _died_ trying to get there.” Soup forgotten, she jumped to her feet, pacing around the room.

She couldn’t help but feel like Clementine was doing this because Ellie had left her no choice. That finding her had ruined whatever ‘peace’ she’d found out here without her, and just wanted to go back to that. Or look for her parents, which were more than likely dead if they really were with the Fireflies.

Swiveling towards the girl half the room away, she continued in a harsh tone. “You’re the least forgettable person I’ve ever met, Clementine. And you’re smarter than this. Just… running off.” Heated, she stood on the other side of the coffee table separating her from Clementine. “If you leave, I’m coming after you. Wherever you go. Because that’s what friends do.”

Rampant breaths escaped her as she fell back to the floor, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. What was the point? She’d already decided. How little did any of them mean to her if she was so willing to get as far away from them as possible? Fuck Tripp, and fuck Jackson for doing this to her. She almost hoped Negan would run them into the ground.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, opening her eyes once more, she finished with a solemn voice, “I can’t go through that again. I just can’t.”

“I’m not changing my mind, Ellie,” Clementine said, without one shift in her expression. Her eyes were as piercing as sharpened steel. “And you’re not following me either. Y’know why?”

There was no anger in her voice, as the girl’s hands settled on the table, unmoving, but steady all the way.

And in all of that, she wore a tired smile. “’Cause you’re smarter than that, too.”

Everything she said had the effect of a slap to the face, one that would’ve left bruises seen from a mile away. For a moment, Ellie was left baffled, mouth opening and closing in rapid movements but nothing ever coming out. She wanted to scream. She wanted to plant her fist into that table, and in lieu of that, wanted an infected to show up just so she could have something to take her aggression out on, but instead she was left with a boiling hot rage and a stomach clenching and splitting itself in two.

Eyes closed, two breaths in and out, she returned to her feet. A step to the side had her ready to turn around, and she used that opportunity to say one final thing, too angry to think of anything better.

“Fuck you, Clementine.”

Leaving that kitchen behind, she nearly stomped towards the door, tears that she’d been holding back finally letting loose. She was surprised that she had any left to give.

And once Ellie had gone, Clementine’s sad smile had gone away with her. What was left shivered to make way for weeping. Gallops far in the distance vanished in the wind, leaving behind the sound of woodpeckers and hummingbirds. Clementine was all alone again, just the way she wanted.

The girl — turned little when there was no one left to see — pulled her knees close and did not let go, digging four fingers into the fabric of her pants. She wouldn’t leave the floor, fearing she might run after Ellie and beg her to stay. She rested her head against her thighs and let her hat slip and fall onto the floor.

She thought seeing Ellie again would finally do her in, but she already felt as dead as she could be.


	3. Rocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how long this took to come out, been dealing with some mental issues and demotivation in the past couple months, but I'm back! This chapter will look familiar if you've read the RP Edition, but the next one is new, and I hope you like 'em!

_8:32 PM - Saturday, July 18, 2026 (Two weeks ago_ )

To say that it was hard to get over Clementine’s absence would’ve been the understatement of the century. Ellie’s room was still a mess, with a pile of broken shit that she’d swept into a corner and had no intention of getting rid of soon. Life had become trying to do anything that kept her from getting swept away in her thoughts, and with school out until August, doing so was the hardest thing in the world.

For the first month, Tripp quarantined her inside the walls, for reasons she didn’t even have to ask. Her damn immunity kept rearing its ugly head, and their asshole of a leader had her being poked and prodded by Eleanor to figure out the cure. No matter how many times Ellie told her it was useless that never seemed to get through Tripp’s thick skull, but eventually the nearly daily visits to the infirmary tapered off.

Around that time, she’d finally convinced him to put her on the scavenging teams. With Lee still healing, and Joel doing… God knew what, it came down to her to pull her weight in the community. For Ellie, it was another excuse not to think. She’d scrounged up enough stuff on a run to make a trade with a semi-decent Savior by the name of Andy, who gave her some battery acid for a box of Twinkies. It was an amusing trade, but Ellie couldn’t complain.

The acid was… probably the most idiotic part of the plan she had, but that seemed to be the norm for her these days. Good on paper, but beyond reckless in practice.

Still, with memories plaguing her, and a desire to put it all to rest becoming all too encumbering, the plan was put into action. She’d found herself in her bathroom, the acid in one hand, and her other arm with its sleeve pulled up to her shoulder.

The bite looked as bubbly and vile as ever; a constant reminder of her failure. It left her feeling nauseous, ready to throw down that jar and instead spew her own acid into the sink. She held it back, though. If she was going to do this, she needed to be tough. Tougher than Joel.

Of course, it wasn’t _just_ her failure that brought her to that sink that day. With the Saviors breathing down their necks, constantly monitoring their new victims to make sure they weren’t doing anything rash, the odds of being discovered grew ever more likely. And knowing the Saviors, they wouldn’t just leave her alone if they found out.

Her immunity needed to be nothing but a distant memory.

“ _This… thing. Maybe you think it’s just you, but it’s not,_ ” Clementine’s words rang in Ellie’s ears as if she were right next to her. She needed to believe her, as much as she needed to be next to her. She wished she could move on, for her friend’s sake, and her own. The voice in the back of her head, though, that one wouldn’t let her.

“ _Are you really going to make this all for nothing?_ ” Riley’s soft voice always had the same effect on her, forcing her breath to hitch and her resolve to crumble. “ _I_ ** _died_** _for you._ ”

 _You didn’t die for me_ , Ellie thought to herself, her hand squeezing the jar tighter. _And it wasn’t for nothing._

Tears welled in her eyes as she tipped the jar over, watching as the vile liquid poured out.

“ _So, be strong. A—And if you can’t, then…_ ** _fuck it_** _, I’ll be tough for you._ ”

Now it was _her_ time to be strong.

As soon as the acid touched her skin, pain shot through her body like a bullet, accompanied by a sizzling sound that was quickly drowned out by her screams.

No amount of mental preparation would’ve made her ready for that moment. The pain was excruciating, like her skin was boiling away in a witch’s pot, searing hot in its ferocity. The tears that streamed down her face became more like a river, and she smashed the jar on the counter, trying to slam her clenched fist against the surface. However, glass poked through her skin, causing the sensation enveloping her to tip past the breaking point. She fell to the floor, clutching her arm close as it continued to sizzle, clenching her eyes shut.

She didn’t know what to do, what to pour onto the acid to make it stop. She was screaming at herself, both aloud and within her own brain, wishing that she’d done _anything_ else. What if it kept eating away at her skin? To the bone? What if she lost her arm?

She scrambled to twist the handle on the sink, cold water streaming around her arm. The acid hissed, flowing with the water into the drain, until it eventually disappeared. She didn’t want to know what it’d do to the metal piping. She let it run for as long as she could bear to sit there, hunched over the sink. When she finally pulled her arm away, turning the faucet off, a red mark took the bite’s place, splotched and bubbly.

Once the burning stopped, she pulled her sleeve back down, moving on. Days went by with no one noticing, just as it was before, though eventually she’d gotten caught looking at it in the bathroom at the church, by another girl that went by Kat. She’d promised that she could cover it up with tattoos, and as surprised as Ellie was to find some sixteen-year-old that knew how to do that, she hardly questioned it. She just silently thanked her for the help.

The next day had been another exhausting day, though not in the way it usually was. She’d keep herself busy normally, pulling any scavenging run she could get her hands on, or helping in the gardens, or spending some time in the gym. Granted, it wasn’t like it was a state-of-the-art facility, but it got her mind off of Clementine, so she made the best out of it. Today had been one of those days, where there were no scavenging runs to do, and that gym became her second home for the day. Her muscles ached, complaining with every step, but she pushed that aside for the time being.

Tonight, she needed to meet up with Kat to talk about tattoos. Ellie hadn’t given it much thought on what she wanted except for ‘something to cover up the burn’, but seeing what her new friend was capable of would help.

She found herself at the girl’s front door, knocking on it timidly. Sighing, she took in a deep breath.

_Time to not be weird._

“ _Yeah! One second, I got your shit—!_ ” A tired voice spat from behind the door, followed by a bunch of swearing as the sound of objects being kicked around filtered through. Three locks resounded as she unbolted them, before the door swung open to reveal a rather annoyed redhead. The frown quickly wiped away as she recognized Ellie, though, replaced by a smile. “Ah! I thought you were one of the guards I owe cards to! Come on in. Make yourself at home.” She moved away from the door, picking up a few things laying on the floor. “You lose one poker game, and the whole guard is after you to get your cards for a single person. Can’t trust me, I guess.” She shrugged, stuffing her ration cards back in a drawer as she looked over her shoulder towards Ellie. “Did you want something to drink while I’m up?”

Kat’s place was… interesting — as interesting as the girl living in it. Most places left standing in Jackson were those fancy homes you’d see in magazines, but Kat’s was a shack straight out of a show about hillbillies, positioned near the very edge of the town.

And as Kat offered her a drink, Ellie didn’t hesitate to nod, smiling. “Please. It’s been a long day.” She sank into the girl’s couch, watching as a candle flickered on the coffee table. “Yeah, the guards love to win, and hate to lose,” she said, relaxing. She’d given them plenty of trouble, enough to afford a nice dinner every now and again. “Fionn’s the worst. Always easy to guess if he’s got a good hand.”

“I swear that fucker cheated our last game,” Kat called from the kitchen, as glasses bumped together and nearly drowned her out. “I owe him sixteen cards, which’s basically my dinner for a month.” She returned with a full glass in her hand, with a bottle of bourbon in the other. “Try not to drink the whole supply,” she joked, taking a seat next to Ellie and setting the bottle down on the table in front of them.

She leaned forward, just enough to put the drink down and reach for her sketchbook, and flipped it open to toss onto Ellie’s lap, all while she used a candle on the table to catch some cigarette on fire.

“Take a gander,” she said before putting it in her mouth. “See if anything interests you.”

Ellie took a small swig of the drink placed in front of her, struggling not to cough as it burned down her throat. Memories plagued her then, and she pushed them away with another drink. Perusing the sketchbook, she set the glass down, flipping through its pages.

 _Wow, she really is a talented artist._ There were designs ranging from what she could describe as tribal pieces to full portraits. There was one of a girl with a pair of massive boobs, which had Ellie sipping out of her cup with an amused expression before moving on. Eventually, something caught her eye. It was a moth, with a pair of leaves behind it. Simple, but would probably cover up her burn nicely.

She stared at the design, thinking to herself, ‘ _Look for the light_ ’. Somehow, she knew that was going to be what she wanted.

“This one,” she said finally, looking towards Kat as she let out a puff of whatever she was smoking. “I like it. Well — I like _all_ of them, but that one especially.” She winced.

Kat’s gaze shifted over, and she coughed out the smoke filling her mouth, waving it away. She squinted at the design for a moment before facing Ellie. “Funny. I’ve only had one other person ask for this design. Made it for her and everything. She never did come get the tattoo.” There was a sober tone to her otherwise cheerful expression. “I can probably handle doing that one. It’d be a miracle to finally get it on skin. May I?” She held out a hand to take a better look at Ellie’s arm, holding out the cigarette for her to take.

Ellie did as asked, pulling up her sleeve to reveal the gauze wrapped around the burn. And, tentatively, she took the cigarette, holding it awkwardly. She looked at it, raising an eyebrow.

“What… is this?” _Obviously not a real cigarette. Smells nothing like it._

Kat carefully held Ellie’s wrist, her other hand now holding up her sketchbook next to Ellie’s arm. Her eyes scanned between the two, a smile on her face. It was when Ellie’s question sunk in that her gaze shifted. “Seriously? You need to get out more…” Kat said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “It’s weed. Feel free to take a hit, Lassie.”

Ellie gave the cigarette a critical glance, feeling herself slouch a little in embarrassment. “Didn’t, uh… didn’t exactly have them in the zone,” she explained, bashfully. _Unless you were a FEDRA asshole, maybe._ “We were lucky to find booze.”

She slowly brought it to her mouth, taking a puff. Coughing violently, she clutched the cigarette in her hand as she turned away from Kat. The girl let out a small, near quiet laugh at Ellie’s misfortune, and when she’d finally regained control, Ellie let out a dry laugh of her own. “That’s fucking _horrible_.” She inhaled another puff anyway, watching as Kat studied her arm some more.

It felt weird showing it to someone after hiding the bite for so long. Like this was some forbidden act that she needed to learn to remind herself that it wasn’t really a thing anymore. She winced as a finger came into contact with the gauze, pain flaring throughout her arm. “It still hurts,” she said, as if she needed to explain herself.

The girl let go the instant she said that, mumbling an apology as she leaned back with her sketchbook. Her fingers flipped through the pages, stopping on a clean sheet. She lifted a hand, taking a pencil that rested behind her ear, and began sketching something on the page.

“Oh, that stuff is never easy the first time you do it,” Kat said, casting Ellie that amused smile that only made Ellie’s ears go red in further embarrassment. Everyone had so much more experience with this shit than she did… “Just don’t fuckin’ inhale the smoke too much,” Kat continued to explain, “You aren’t breathin’ it in your lungs.”

Ellie let out a scoff, indignant. “I know how to smoke.” She didn’t. Still, not knowing things wasn’t something she’d admit to; it was a bit uncomfortable being on this end of the spectrum. She took another puff of the weed, putting what Kat said to use. Thankfully, it worked out better that time. She held it out to the girl next to her, who took a long inhale of it.

“Do you ever think about how fucked we are?” She asked, knowing well enough that the topic wasn’t the best one to pick. “With the Saviors, and all that bullshit, and—” She fell silent, grabbing her cup and taking another sip. It left a weird aftertaste after smoking. But anything to get through this. “My friend getting kicked out,” she finished with, voice quiet.

Kat had let the smoke out slowly, a tired expression on her face. “I think about a lot of stuff,” she said. “Some more than others. The Saviors are… a bunch of pricks — If they came knocking on my door, I’d tattoo their eyes and steal their shins… as for your friend—”

She let the cigarette hang out of her mouth; her hand stopped moving across the page.

“I don’t think of her at all. I didn’t know her. And didn’t know much about the… situation she was involved in. Can’t form an opinion if I don’t know the details. But it seems you think about her quite a lot, right? You wouldn’t have mentioned her if she wasn’t on your mind, at least a little.” Her hand resumed its work on the page, her other offering back the cigarette Ellie’s way.

Her next puff did little to calm her nerves, though thinking about Clementine had become anxiety-inducing on its own, let alone _talking_ about her. She didn’t really want to bother Kat about it… they weren’t really friends yet, but who else did she have to turn to? Ellie was… angry, upset, depressed, and struggling to stay busy enough to push all those feelings away. Rarely worked. This past year had dragged her through the mud, leaving her broken and tired and just… needing to rest. If only her brain would let her.

“She’s, um…” Ellie trailed off, eyes falling to her lap as she took one more puff of the cigarette, letting it out in a slow exhale. “She is — was — my girlfriend. After what happened with the Saviors, she just… left. Without a word. I think about that a lot.”

It was weird talking about it out loud. She’d never talked about her relationship before, at least not in detail. Joel was the only one that really knew about it, but she’d never told him anything more than they were dating. Other things got in the way. She’d just wanted to respect Clem’s wishes about keeping things between them, but now that she’s gone… well, some advice couldn’t hurt.

She gave the cigarette back and took a sip of her bourbon, continuing. “Maybe it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, but… yeah. It’s hard not to think about if she’s okay out there. Wherever she is. Thinking about how things might be different if I’d been two seconds faster. Save Tommy somehow. Or… maybe I’m just stupid. And think I can control everything. I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“Let me let you in on a little secret, E,” the girl said as she inhaled more of the cigarette before setting it down on an ashtray sitting on her table. The smoke left her nose like one of those animated cartoon bulls. Her frame leaned back now so she could sketch whatever she was drawing easier.

“Life is like… a big body of water. Right? And with each event that happens, more rocks are added to a bag tied around your foot. The more rocks, the more you’re dragged down. And eventually, you can feel yourself drowning in your own emotions.”

Kat ran her hand through her hair, gaze shifting back up towards Ellie for a moment before shooting back down to her page. “Now, you can remove these rocks. Some are harder than others. They can be bigger and heavier. It takes a lot of strength and courage to let go of the past that’s dragging you down. Did you know thinking back and focusing on ‘what if’s and the possibilities of what could’ve been doesn’t do anything but make your rocks heavier? Do you want to drown, Ellie? ‘Cause if you do, hold onto it. It’ll only be your downfall. But, if you want to survive, reach out and break that surface again for air? The rock has to go. Letting… letting her go might be what’s best. You can hold her memories close, learn from them… but that doesn’t mean you have to carry what she did in your bag. What happened wasn’t your fault… okay? And—And if you don’t think you can let go of that rock alone. If it’s just too heavy? I’ll grab your hand myself and pull you up to the surface. But only you can make the decision to let the rock sink to the bottom without you.” She set her pencil down, letting out a short sigh as she shook her head.

“I was in a similar boat before. I let the rock drag me all the way to the bottom ‘cause I was naïve enough to let some… asshole girl break my heart. And even after all she did, for some reason, her rock was still there, dragging me down because I’d convinced myself that I still loved her… when I knew she didn’t love me — she never did. That rock kept growing and growing, and eventually I hit the bottom. I’ve fucking been there. She was the last fuckin’ piece for me to sink. And hitting the bottom of the ocean is fucking terrifying. You lose all sense of right and wrong, you make horrible mistakes to fix something you can’t. I’ve done things I can’t take back just to please her. And it was for nothing. I… I can still hear those godawful clickers, and see her face as she turned her back to le—” She shut her eyes for a moment, fist tightening atop her book.

“Don’t be like me. I was lucky I realized I needed help. I was lucky I got out of that mindset before I hit deep shit. You’ll hit it, too, if you let your past eat you alive. We already have a ton of things trying to eat us… this shouldn’t be one. Besides…” Kat flipped her sketchbook around, showing the drawing to Ellie with a half-hearted smile.

“You have a nice smile. You should show it off more.”

Ellie couldn’t help but do exactly what she showed on the paper: a lopsided smile that felt like the first time she’d actually done it in weeks. She was right. _Of course,_ she was right. She’d had this problem for months, way before Clementine ever left. She thought she could deal with the memories and regrets and carry them all on her back — or tied around her ankles, in Kat’s example — but she’d never been capable of shrugging them off.

She missed Clementine, and always would, but she needed to live for herself now, if not for Joel and Lee and everyone else that depended on her here. It was better than drowning. Sitting there, all the stupid shit she’d done in the wake of Clementine’s departure filled up her mind. Call it laziness, or just a reminder of what happened, but she realized now that she couldn’t live like that anymore. The mess needed to go. Probably won’t be able to find another decent lamp, but whatever. She could make do.

Ellie sat back on the couch, taking a slow sip of her drink before matching Kat’s gaze. “You’re not half bad, you know that?”

Kat seemed to straighten up a bit at the compliment, her face slightly red. She wiped a hand across her face as she rolled her eyes, pen ready to start a different sketch. “No, no. I’m full bad. Total rebel, yeah. Major lone wolf. I put the bad in… uh — bad news. Yep.”

Kat shook her head, knowing that she wasn’t really helping her case, as she tapped and scratched at her face to distract herself.

Ellie, instead, chuckled under her breath, rolling her eyes too. _Yeah, whatever._ If there was anything she’d learned today, it’s that Kat would make for a pretty fucking cool friend, and Ellie had every intention of making it that way. Better than drowning herself in work to forget her last friend.

Cup empty, she set it on the table, her face turned serious, yet maintaining the smile. “Thank you,” she said, absolutely meaning it. “For the tattoo, and for the pep talk. Seriously. I’ll hit you up when this thing’s feeling better.” She pointed at the bandage around her arm before continuing, shaking her head amusedly. “I’m gonna look _badass_.”

“If I do my job, you surely will,” Kat said. “After all, I did most of these myself, and they sure as shit weren’t easy.” She gestured to her own tattoos, many of which seemed to be various sea creatures and symbols. She smiled, standing from her seat to put away her sketchbook.

She dusted her hands off and made her way towards the kitchen where she rolled up another ‘cigarette’. The girl’s voice picked up as she hummed to herself as she popped a cassette into a radio. Punk rock filtered through the air while Kat came back into the living room, lighting her cigarette and taking a nice puff as she sat by Ellie once again.

She swung her arm around Ellie’s shoulders. “Now, let’s get this party started,” she shouted over the music, taking another hit, and the two spent the rest of the evening smoking and rocking out.


	4. Fake

_11:12 AM - August 3, 2026_

Days passed by in agonizing slowness; all that bullshit about keeping Clementine out of her mind by keeping busy had failed her miserably. Even when school finally started back up that Monday, Ellie couldn’t concentrate on what the fuck the teachers were trying to say.

She’d spent that time too wrapped up in trying to figure out what she could’ve said to Clementine instead, a different way of convincing her to stay, but nothing sounded better. And knowing Clementine, she wasn’t lying when she’d said that Ellie couldn’t change her mind. That fact was really starting to settle in, only proving to piss her off even more. They were supposed to be best friends — girlfriends — and living on a mended promise to never leave each other, but Clementine had broken that months ago, and the last nail in the coffin had been at the ranch.

Kat was right, she needed to just… set her aside, focus on herself and what she’s doing here. The rocks were already becoming too heavy to keep her head above the surface.

That morning, she sat in what used to be Tripp’s survival class, now ran by some pisshead named Ian, who seemed just as excited to be there as the students were. Today’s lesson was about guns and how to maintain them, and Ian, in his ever disinterested voice, went through each step, taking apart a rifle and cleaning it, before reassembling.

“Now, we’re gonna do this in pairs,” he said, placing the rifle down on the desk in front of him. He started listing off names, calling them up to the front of the class to grab a rifle, until he finally reached Ellie. “Ellie… and Lydia.”

 _What…? He can’t be serious…_ Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she got out of her chair and headed towards the front of the class, grabbing the rifle Ian held out to her. Silently cursing him, she found her ways to Lydia’s desk near the back of the class, grinding her teeth together. This wouldn’t end well for anyone, especially with a weapon involved. _Just gotta hope she doesn’t shoot me with it._ Two steps away from her desk, Ellie stopped, clutching the rifle by the barrel.

_Jesus, can this week get any worse?_

“Hi,” she offered in greeting, voice barely audible over the sound of other teenagers talking amongst themselves, some even giving them amused glances. The awkwardness was gonna kill her. “Guess we’re partners,” she mused.

Lydia ignored her, staying seated as she crossed her arms and rested them on the desk in front of her, using them as a pillow to lay her cheek on. She blankly stared out into the abyss of the classroom, eyes wide open, yet not an ounce of anything lively in them. She didn’t even look in Ellie’s direction.

“Somebody just — _fucking kill me_ …” Lydia murmured, which was about the reaction Ellie expected. Still, she wouldn’t get out of this just because Lydia wasn’t happy about it either, so she begrudgingly took the seat next to the blonde, placing the rifle down on the table, at least where she still could given Lydia took up half of the damned thing.

Taking apart the rifle wasn’t so hard. She’d seen Joel do it plenty of times, and Ian, despite how bored he sounded, was quite thorough in showing the steps. There was some gunk in the barrel she used a towel and whatever cleaner they had given them to get it out, glancing towards Lydia every thirty seconds or so. She might be on her own on this one. _Whatever._

Quietly, as she opened up the chamber and began cleaning inside, Ellie broke the silence. “I heard what you did for Clementine, during the vote.” Poor way to start a conversation, but she didn’t have much else to work with.

The silence lingered for a moment.

“I did what I had to do,” Lydia said, head remaining atop her arms as if she’d said nothing. “Like the _arrogant bitch_ I am, right?”

Ellie saw that coming from a mile away, but chose to ignore it. The poison in her tone just wasn’t worth getting riled up about. Still, hearing her own words get thrown back at her after _so fucking long_ made her feel like she had a knife at her throat, and all it’d take was one remark from Ellie to finish the job.

This was what made it so difficult for her to even want to approach Lydia. She wouldn’t hesitate to bring up shit to make you feel worse. Not like she could make her feel any worse than she already did. What she’d said to Clementine had brought her to a new low.

Taking in a deep breath, moving on to the next section of the rifle that needed cleaning, Ellie continued in a soft tone, eyes locked on the weapon. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

She wanted to explain herself, to talk about how fighting back had always been the only way to survive in the zone, but she knew that Lydia didn’t care. Why would she? She probably had it worse.

“I know apologies don’t mean anything, but… y’know.”

That had Lydia forcing her head up to meet Ellie’s eyes at the opposite end of the table. Whatever she must’ve been thinking about, it took a while for her to say it. “I’m sorry, too.” Lydia sat up now, straightening her posture. The pause she’d taken had only lasted a second. “Sorry that Clementine’s _best friend_ would rather dig a hole than bother to show up and give her any support. I’m sure she’d be _sooo_ thrilled to know that her sweet little Ellie now hangs out with some tattoo artist _slut_ that’s a part of the same gang that screwed her life up.” Her voice had grown vile, bitter. “So don’t talk to me about ‘sorry’, you **fake fuck**.”

Ellie’s heart stopped.

For a moment that felt like an eternity, she sat frozen in horror, dropping the rifle to the table with a definite clatter. She couldn’t even muster the energy to fight back, defend herself, or even move a muscle. What Lydia said shook her to the core, a feeling that she never expected to get out of the blonde, though in hindsight, _definitely_ should’ve seen coming too.

The first words to come out of her mouth were so quiet they were nearly inaudible, a stuttering that mirrored just how fucked her brain was. “ _S—She’s a Savior?_ ” She hadn’t even known Kat for more than a couple weeks, and the very idea of the girl being with that group was damn near unfathomable.

“ _The Saviors are… a bunch of pricks. If they came knocking on my door, I’d tattoo their eyes and steal their shins._ ”

So, Kat was just lying to her face? How could Lydia even know she was with the Saviors if the girl was trying to hide it? Or did Kat just assume that she knew? No matter how many questions surfaced in her mind, she didn’t have an answer for any of them.

No one had even told her about the meeting that led to Clementine getting kicked out, and she had her suspicions it happened on purpose. Lydia throwing that in her face, though, only made her feel a hundred times worse. Like, somehow, Ellie should’ve figured it out through some magical means, yet all she could’ve done was bury Tommy’s body in the ground, for Joel’s sake.

She wanted to punch something. She wanted to punch herself. She wanted to go up to that mountain again and just… jump off. Eyes surrounded her, drawn to the blonde’s outburst, and she couldn’t raise her gaze to meet any of them.

Laughter. Whispering. They were all eventually silenced as Ian raised his voice. “Alright, that’s enough. Get back to work.” Ellie couldn’t, though.

Hands shaking, seat scratching against the ground, she lifted herself out of it, heading for the door. She didn’t bother to listen to Ian’s protests, instead answering them by slamming the door behind her.

Once outside, her legs gave out beneath her, grass filling her vision as she curled up, capable of doing nothing more than releasing the torrential downpour of tears out of her eyes.

* * *

Lightning crackled overhead in a fantastical light show, clouds so dark that it reduced the early afternoon sun to a glow barely bright enough for Ellie to see where she was going. Her hood whipped in the wind, blinding her every second or two. She tried her best to keep her hood out of her face, but it proved fruitless, as much as it did to keep from getting soaked through by the torrential downpour. Perhaps leaving had been a bad idea, but the storm blew in quick, and Ellie had so much farther to go.

Gripping the hilt of the machete in her hand, she followed the trail further into the mountains. Trees collided with each other in the intense wind, whistling and cracking like bones with too much force applied to them. She could almost lose herself in the sound, a lingering worry at the back of her head about whether or not one would snap at any moment.

The trail eventually split in two. Stopping, Ellie looked down each. The left circled towards Clementine’s ranch, she knew. The other, deeper into the mountains. The same trail she and Clementine went down before. She chose the right path, taking in a deep breath.

Maybe there’s something worth checking out along the way.

The storm only intensified, howling and booming, and Ellie sheathed her blade to wrap her arms around herself, conserving any warmth she could. As the path grew steeper, a small building in the distance caught her attention. She remembered seeing it the first time they’d been through here, right before the trail ended and they made the rest of the way to the top on unbroken ground. A large spire jutted out of the top, some kind of radio receiver. The door was still shut. Perhaps there still was something here?

Getting out of the rain for a minute wouldn’t hurt, either.

She tried the door, but the knob wouldn’t turn. _Fucking figures._ It took a few tries to kick the door in, but eventually it yielded. Dust and cobwebs covered the interior, left abandoned for over a decade.

Flicking on her flashlight, she scanned over the room. Large control panels took up one side, a fogged window placed into the wall over them. Inside appeared to be a booth with a microphone placed into some sort of metal arm, sitting in front of a pair of chairs. The room appeared untouched and ultimately had nothing worth salvaging.

An adjacent room housed a small kitchen, but nothing in there was still in-date anymore. Perhaps taking the microphone would be worth something. Did the Saviors have any need for that junk? Fuck if she knew.

Grinding her teeth together, she kicked the refrigerator with enough force to shift it slightly, letting out a frustrated grunt. This was a fucking waste of time. How was she supposed to get her mind off of Clementine and Kat when there was _nothing_ out here worth salvaging?

How fucking stupid she’d been, letting herself get close to them. Falling in love with Clementine. Trying to find a friend out of Kat. She was so fucking stupid. Didn’t she learn enough from Riley? Love only caused pain, watching as they leave you or die. And, in the end, _she_ was the bad guy. _She_ was the one that fucked everything up. Well, fuck that. Fuck feeling like she was the problem. Clementine abandoned her and was going to again — and Kat was a liar. Ellie wasn’t fake. She wasn’t someone who’d just bounce from one person to the next. If that meant being on her own, then she’d do it. It was better than living with the guilt.

Wood creaked from somewhere within the control room, snapping Ellie’s attention to it in a heartbeat. Thunder boomed outside, deafening any noise that followed. The machete slipped out of its sheath on her belt, gripped tightly.

Two steps forward, as the thunder dissipated into the distance, a moan faded in. Infected. At least two of them. When she reached the door, they screeched, lurching forward.

She jerked to the side, letting the runner collide with the countertop next to her. Swinging the machete, it collided with its neck, screaming. The other pounced on her, and all she could do to keep it back was kick out with her leg, forcing it to stumble. Switchblade in hand, she buried it in the first runner’s head, pulling it out as it fell to the ground.

The other runner’s next attempt brought her back colliding with the counter, a sharp pain causing her to yelp. Keeping it at bay with her hands against its shoulders, she tried to kick again, though it was moving too much for her to hit its leg. Cursing, she tried to stab it in the shoulder, but it knocked her hand back, using the opportunity to close in towards her neck. Jerking herself to the side to escape its grasp, she just barely missed the runner’s teeth, gnashing with enough force to break bone. It didn’t care, though, continuing to attack her.

As the runner forced her against the wall, just beyond the refrigerator, Ellie dropped her knife. She held back the walker with one hand, grabbing for the handle on the freezer, and forcing it open. It hit the runner in the face, staggering it. She rushed towards it, sending a kick right into its abdomen. It fell to the floor, scrambling, as Ellie reached for the machete still buried in the first runner’s neck, yanking it out with a strained scream. Lifting it above her head, she brought it down on the runner’s head, a shattering crack filling the air as it collided with its skull. Its thrashing stopped in an instant, and she forced the blade out, slamming it right back in. She didn’t stop until the head split in two, leaving her clothes and surroundings covered in blood and brain matter.

Panting, she keeled over, dropping the machete to the ground to clutch the side of the counter for support. “ _F—Fuc-_ ” She breathed, unable to finish the curse amidst heavy breaths. _Two_ runners had nearly done her in. That’s all it—

“Not bad, girl.” A voice called out, sending her scrambling for her machete, twisting around to point the sharp end of it towards the voice.

In the darkness beyond the flashlight she’d left on the counter, the figure stood in the doorway, twice her size. His jacket was soaked through just as hers had, a faint dripping sound filling the now silent room. She glowered at him, but she knew he couldn’t really see it. Yet, the blade shined in the light, providing her with the threat she needed.

“Get the fuck out,” she said lowly, gritting her teeth. The figure didn’t move, instead letting out an amused ‘humph’, shaking his head.

“Such language for such a young girl. Didn’t your parents teach you better?” His voice was light — airy — and she ignored the comment, pulling back the machete inch by inch, poised to strike. “I’d say some _common courtesy_ is in order, don’t you think?” He continued, seeming to ignore her silent threat as well. He simply waved instead. “Hello, my name is Jacques. Most people just call me Jack instead.” Silence met his words. “You see, this is the part of that ‘common courtesy’ thing where you tell me who _you_ are.”

“Fuck off.”

“Wow, your parents must’ve really hated you, huh?” He chuckled, shaking his head. His long hair whipped rain onto her face, and she jerked instinctively, wiping it away with her free hand. “Okay, then. I guess pleasantries are over. You see, I’m part of a larger group not too far from here, and if they found you pointing that thing at me like that, they wouldn’t be very happy. Do you want to be happy? It’s a great feeling. When everyone’s working together and not pointing machetes at each other. Super great.”

He really wasn’t helping his case. Every word he said only made it crystal clear he couldn’t leave. Leaving her weapon raised, she spoke up. “Are you with the Saviors?”

That seemed to catch the man by surprise, his head tilting ever so slightly. A pause filled the air, one that stretched on for far too long to be comfortable. “No,” he said, sighing. “Though I know of them. They’ve caused us trouble in the past. How about you?”

“Why do you care?” Ellie snapped back.

“Well, the Saviors are the enemy. If they’re your enemy, too, then who’s to say that you and I are enemies?” His words hung in the air for a second before he continued. “So… Saviors enemy mean you no pointy with machete. Got it?”

Okay, that was enough. She swung the machete towards him, cursing as he stepped back outside of her range. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as lightning briefly illuminated him in a silhouette. She could see the faint indention of a scar along his cheek before the flash faded away.

“Alright, then. Can’t say I blame you.”

As Ellie tried to hit him again, he dodged out of the way, tackling her against the counter. A blade she hadn’t seen before glinted in the dim light, and she tried to kick him in the nuts, only for metal to meet flesh, the blade stabbing into her shoulder. She screamed, dropping the machete as she clawed at his arm. Another stab sent her wildly thrashing, forcing him off of her. Her shoulder throbbed, blood soaking her hand as she held it over the wound, but as he tried to tackle her again, she ducked, falling to the floor.

Crawling through the dark, she searched the ground in shaky movements for the switchblade she’d dropped earlier, her hand gripping it as the man turned her over, preparing to plunge his blade through her skull. She struck first, burying the knife straight into his gut, slashing to the right with as much strength as she could muster. The blade sliced through skin; the man howled as blood seeped through the wound. He sent his knife plummeting towards her, but she jerked her head out of the way, the blade scraping against the wooden floor. She kept pulling on her own blade until she ran out of body to cut through and it forced its way free violently.

A cone of light from her flashlight illuminated the man’s face, bright blue eyes bulging as blood gurgled in his mouth. The scar she’d seen before ran all the way from the corner of his lip to his ear, a thin beard masking some of it. As he finally succumbed to his wound, falling flat on her, Ellie struggled to push him off, grunting as her wounds flared from the exertion. Grasping onto anything to pull herself to her feet, she dropped the knife to the countertop, pulling her backpack off of her and desperately searching through it.

Cleaning the wound wasn’t easy, nor was bandaging it, but she wouldn’t make it back home without doing so. The weather outside was only getting worse, and Ellie ventured out into it without a second thought. Staying here any longer was a terrible idea.

By the time she reached the gate, she collapsed onto the muddy ground. Fionn rushed out the gate to meet her, pulling her to her feet. “What the bloody hell did you do out there, girl?” He asked, astonished. Ellie didn’t answer him, just letting him carry her towards the infirmary.

By the time the gates closed behind her, she wasn’t even aware of her surroundings anymore, eyes closing by their own accord.

* * *

When she eventually came to, all she could do was grunt as the pain flared ever worse than before. Bright lights blinded her, but as her eyes adjusted, she noticed Eleanor sitting next to her, pricking a needle into her skin. She gave her a look, one that clearly meant for Ellie to stop moving, and the younger girl begrudgingly obliged.

Laying her head back down and holding back pained gasps, she eventually found the strength to speak up. “Is it bad?”

Eleanor attempted to give as calming of a smile as she could. “You’re gonna be fine,” she said, eyes returning to the stitching she’d been doing in Ellie’s slumber. “Can you tell me who did this to you?” She asked, eyes flicking up after each poke through her skin.

Cursing breathlessly with each stab, Ellie tried to focus. That asshole’s face was still clear as daylight. Scars, long hair, bright blue eyes… no one she’d ever seen before. No friend of the Saviors, too. Made her wonder who the hell he was with.

“He wasn’t a Savior,” she said, answering the unspoken question. “Some asshole with a scar. Said he was with another group nearby.”

Not knowing _how_ close was agonizing. How many were in the area? He wasn’t alone, that’s obvious. But, how many more were in his _entire_ group? If she just started a war between Jackson and some other group of assholes…

Concern etched across Eleanor’s face, stopping for only a second to presumably comprehend what Ellie was telling her. “Don’t worry, we’ll handle that,” she said. “For now, you just need to rest.”

The woman sighed as she finished the last stitchings, cleaning the needle. She handed Ellie a clean t-shirt to wear until she could go home, which she carefully slipped on just as a knock on the door filled the air.

Sighing, Eleanor called out, “Come in.”

The door opened, revealing a rather unamused Tripp. After getting caught up to speed about the assailant that attacked Ellie, his eyes bounced between the two women. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Give me a moment with her?” It wasn’t a request.

When Eleanor finally nodded, saying that she’d be back in a few minutes, Tripp stood next to Ellie’s bed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?” He asked right off the bat, shaking his head. “First you’re skippin’ school, now _this_? What the hell am I supposed to tell Joel?” When she didn’t answer immediately, he pushed on. “I can’t have you goin’ out there anymore. You’re off the scavenging team. You’re lucky I ain’t—”

“What? Kicking me out?” Ellie finished for him, shooting a glare his way.

This entire fucking thing was unfair. All she did was defend herself. If killing Jacques meant keeping him away from Jackson, then it needed to be done. She’d seen enough people like him to know it would’ve been either him or her.

“Just do it,” she continued, raising her voice. “I fucking **_dare you_**. At least then I can be with Clementine.” _Not that she’d ever want to see me again._

Tripp sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Stepping away from her bed and towards the door, Tripp threw a remark over his shoulder, “If that asshole’s friends show up guns blazin’, I just might.” With that, he shut the door behind him, almost immediately followed by Eleanor walking in, holding a plate of rice and beans in her hand.

Ellie was about ready to fly out of that bed the instant she saw food, but didn’t want to hurt herself for the time being. Having to get those wounds restitched would be a bitch.

“You hungry?” Eleanor asked quietly, a question already easily answered, yet Ellie nodded all the same. Handing the plate over, Eleanor took the seat next to Ellie’s bed once more. “Your patch job wasn’t bad, by the way,” she said, smiling. “I can teach you more, if you want. I could use an assistant around here. Just think of it as a way to get out of school. Apprenticeships are usually the next stage of the ‘education system’ here. Or, I guess the term they used before the apocalypse was ‘intern’, but yeah, you get the point.”

The food wasn’t great, but Ellie was hungry enough not to care. She devoured half of the plate before Eleanor even spoke up. What the older woman asked left her taken aback.

Well, she wasn’t going outside the walls anymore, and any excuse to get away from Lydia at the moment seemed liked a good idea…

_Ah, what the hell. Got nothing better to do._

She slowly nodded, giving her approval of the idea. Learning a few things wouldn’t hurt, anyway. The last time someone she cared about was hurt, she couldn’t even…

She wasn’t gonna let that happen again.

Eleanor’s attention had shifted from Ellie’s shoulder to her arm, which didn’t have the gauze wrapped around it anymore. “When were you going to tell me you hid the bite?” The woman asked, raising an eyebrow as Ellie visibly winced. “What did you use to do this?”

Ellie didn’t answer at first, silently cursing herself. She looked away. “Battery acid.”

“Ellie, if you wanted to hide the bite, I could’ve helped you,” Eleanor sighed, grabbing Ellie’s arm. Whether it was to examine it or comfort her, she wasn’t sure. “There’s plenty of ways to—”

A handful of knocks on the door interrupted her, leaving Eleanor sighing while couldn’t believe her luck. Standing up, the woman approached the door. _Please don’t be Joel, please don’t be Joel…_

The door opened to reveal Kat on the other side. A fate a whole lot worse than Joel. That luck had to run out eventually.

_Shit._

Eleanor glanced between them, giving Kat a semi-friendly once-over before clearing her throat. “I’ll just leave you two alone for a minute.”

The woman disappeared out the door, leaving Ellie with the Savior.

Begrudgingly, she sat up in her bed, clutching her shoulder as she did so. The wound hurt like a motherfucker, leaving her wincing. Yet, it still felt better than talking to _her_. Better than facing everything she represented, both good and bad.

“Hey,” she whispered, eyes falling to her legs obscured by the blanket on top of her.

The way Kat had been looking at the ground, she must’ve found it just as difficult to have this conversation. It was Ellie’s greeting that got her to lift her gaze, however, feet moving her closer before she ever said a word. “Hey — You feeling alright, E? When I heard what happened… You look like shit—”

_No kidding._

Kat took a seat on the edge of her bed. Having her in such close proximity forced Ellie to hold her breath. It took a moment for her to realize that she couldn’t just hold it forever.

Thankfully, the girl kept her distance, stumbling over words. “What I mean to say is — What… happened out there…?”

Sighing as the inevitable question arose, Ellie didn’t fight answering it. People were going to find out, anyway. “I needed to blow off some steam,” she said. “Went out scavenging. Got a little more than I bargained for.”

She looked away, fingertips scratching at her skin before she realized she’d been scratching at the burn. Hissing in her breath, she forced herself to stop.

“The asshole was stronger than me. Should’ve saw it coming.”

“I could’ve told you that fighting someone you’ve never met before was a recipe for disaster—” Kat mumbled, just barely audible as her eyes fell away from her own lap and towards Ellie.

Her brows narrowed, eyes lingering on Ellie’s burn for a moment before she shot a wary gaze towards her. Hesitant, the girl’s hand moved up to carefully lay on Ellie’s shoulder — the good one. She took a deep breath, followed quickly by a tired sigh.

“Please don’t run off again. At least by yourself. I can get the whole ‘clearing your head’ thing, but running off alone in this world is stupid. I’ll give you this much, you aren’t in the right mindset. No one would be if they were in a shit situation… but, next time, just ask — You know I’m always willing to blow off my shift to keep an eye on your back. You could’ve been killed today — And I think I’d be a pretty shit friend if I didn’t at least try to help prevent that.”

Hearing all of that from Kat only made her feel worse. She hated the fact that the only decent person she’d found to talk to in Clementine’s absence was a _Savior_ , yet she couldn’t muster the courage to bring it up yet. The physical contact made her move slightly, but she forced herself to not jerk away. She didn’t want to be like everyone else: acting like an asshole for no reason other than because of who Kat was. This had to be done calmly. Respectfully. Kat had earned that much from her.

“They’re not letting me outside the walls anymore, so I guess that’s a blessing in disguise.” Ellie said, sighing. “I… saw Clementine the other day, out in the woods. Didn’t end well. Made some stupid choices, and… yeah. It’s been a shitty day.”

The girl’s smile dropped ever so slightly, lifting her hand away from Ellie’s shoulder and placed it in her own lap instead.

“Thanks for coming to see me, though. I do appreciate it,” Ellie added, not an ounce of anger in her voice. There weren’t many people left here that’d care to look in on her, anyway. “You didn’t have to.”

“I _did_ have to — E, you have a funny way of getting a hold on people, I’ll give you that. I wouldn’t have slept right knowing I didn’t at least check up on you. I had to see for myself you were alright… Health-wise—” She offered a shrug, her smile perking up. “Besides, who else was going to come make sure you weren’t frowning? Come on. Let me see that award-winning Ellie Smile. Life is shit, but at least we got moments like this. Huh, E? Just two pals being able to hang out? That’s a reason to smile, because it’s in the now.”

Despite telling herself that she shouldn’t, Ellie couldn’t help but smile. Kat was good at what she does, Ellie’ll give her that. Professional consoler. Still, that lingering thought ruined the moment, and in an instant, the smile dropped again. Seemed to get harder to hold one.

The brief silence that followed gave her time to collect her thoughts, shaking her head as if trying to organize them that way. Didn’t work. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice cracking softly. “Lydia told me that you were a Savior today.” It felt so much harder to say that than Ellie expected. “And I—I still can’t believe it.”

“And after everything,” she continued. “I’m getting called a ‘fake fuck’ and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to stop being your friend, because I think you’re cool, and you don’t deserve all the hate everyone’s throwing at you, and it sucks, and I—” She was stumbling over her words, coming to a halt like a train wreck. “I don’t want you to think I’m using you either, ‘cause I’m not, it’s just—nice to have someone to talk to again. Fuck, I’m just—” She put her head in her hands, forcing herself to take in several deep breaths.

Being alone sucked, no matter how much she knew that it was the only way.

Kat seemed to take a moment to think on that. When she spoke, it was in a mumble. “I thought you knew, so I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.” She rested her head in her hand for a moment, leaving Ellie to wonder what was going through her head. “Lydia, huh?” She asked, bitterness in her tone. “I bet she only knows what everyone else tells her. It’s not like I joined the place willingly. I grew up there. Big difference. And the Saviors aren’t all bad, you know. It’s a tight community… they keep each other safe. They just… aren’t the best outside of it. Hell, I can guarantee the other Saviors living here are assholes… some much more than others.” Her words faded out, eyes glued to the floor.

“You aren’t using me,” she said. “I get it. Fuck, this is so dumb — I should’ve realized the Savior thing mattered. I would’ve mentioned it sooner instead of leading you on, especially with everything that happened. I — Look… I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to. It’s nice to have a friend again. But if this is causing you issues, I don’t have to stick around. E, trust me, please… I really want to be here, talking to you—”

Ellie believed that Kat was a good person. Ellie believed that not every Savior was an asshole. Not everyone was going to see it that way, though. Should that bother her? It did — yet, seeing how much Kat hated being in that position, and how genuine she seemed about _wanting_ to talk to her, Ellie found herself not caring more and more. She wasn’t like _him_. She **_wasn’t_**. If Ellie treated her like everyone else, then she’d just be another asshole in this shithole community, treating people the same way they’d treated her, and still do.

What was that phrase again? ‘Us outsiders got to stick together’?

Ellie’s hand reached out on its own accord, fingers wrapping around the girl’s forearm. The girl tensed up at the touch, gaze shifting down to their hand. “I want you here, too.” Felt hard to say that, like a rock stuck in her throat, but she meant it all the same. “I just… thought you should know. That I know. I guess.” She was rambling again. She pulled away then, visibly deflating. Kat’s hands tightened into balls, eyes returning to the floor. “I can’t lose somebody else.”

The girl finally took a deep breath, and after a moment, she scooted just a bit closer, arms carefully wrapping around Ellie as she pulled her into a hug. “If you tell anyone I did this, I’ll deny everything — But I’m not going anywhere…”

Wrapped in Kat’s arms, Ellie finally saw fit to cry, tears staining her face when they eventually broke apart. She wiped them away quickly, sniffling. She was tired of crying. Tired of feeling hopeless and like a burden. And, at the crux of it all, she was just… tired.

She tried to stop herself from thinking about how much she wished Clementine was here too. How much she wanted to take what she said back. Tell her how much she already missed her when she wasn’t even gone yet.

In the end, all those regrets would stick with her. When Clementine was gone, that chance to make things right would be gone with her. Maybe it was better that way; she didn’t really know. Now that she wasn’t allowed to leave again, it didn’t really matter.

But she still had Kat to lean on, at least until she could stand on her own two feet again. That meant something. More than Ellie could voice in that moment. And Ellie would carry both of their weight if she had to, if Kat ever needed the same thing.

After all, that’s what friends were for.


	5. Weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this chapter before December 8, 2020, two new scenes were added to this chapter. I'd super recommend reading them, I think they turned out really well :) New chapter is also finished drafting, so I'm working on editing it. Should be up this week, I'm hoping!

[Music for this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2RgmT2MT5HY)

_10:30 PM - 2024_

A chilling breeze howled and whistled through the leaves, accompanied by the dim moonlight that would surely be the girl’s only solace tonight. Lydia sat, curled up against a tree stump, staring into the dense abyss that was the forest. Grumbles of the dead lingered from afar, sounds that she’d grown accustomed to, maybe the only ones that brought her comfort. It was a nice thing to fall asleep to, if she could just get her eyes to shut…

Lydia could see several others of her kind, congregating around a makeshift fire. On any other night like this, she might’ve tried to join them. Only, there was no way to be sure… that _they_ weren’t there too. The ones that’d jumped her last night. She’d _almost_ asked for some more clothes yesterday, but backed out at the last second. She feared what would happen, and what they’d make her do to get it. Like it was repeated time and time again: weakness was not to be shown.

It was a decision she was regretting now, but if keeping quiet meant she’d be left alone in peace. Then it was worth it.

The wind picked up, and the Whisperer’s knees instinctively drew closer to her chest, cradling herself even tighter than before as the shivering got worse. A ripped t-shirt did little to shield her from the harsh cold. But the mask kept her face a little bit warm at least...

“Hurt?”

A voice. Soft and shallow. Was enough to make her jump. Startled, Lydia’s head jolted in the direction of a sound. When her eyes met another pair behind a mask, apprehension was all she felt, a sickness coursing through her chest, making it thump.

It was just one this time. But there was no way of knowing if more were hiding nearby.

What did he want? Why was he here?

Lydia was slow to answer, and her eyes would eventually drift towards the dead leaves on the ground. To his question, she would steadily shake her head. Hurt. It only meant an easier target.

“Cold.” She whispered back.

He nodded, understanding. “Fire,” his whisper chimed. “Warm.”

She didn’t move, didn’t dare to look up at him. She sat there, arms wrapped around her knees. Rigid and frozen like a rock. Unwilling to stand. Lydia couldn’t let them see. Had to make sure no one caught sight of her limping. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if they knew.

The Whisperer shook her head again, shuddering under her breath.

He said nothing. When it came time to respond, he nudged her with the point of his boot, a thumb pointed at his chest as he whispered, “Stay…?”

Although her features were obscured by the mask, the eyes behind it spoke. Her child-like gaze found the other Whisperer. Unsure what to make of him, yet yearning for something warm all the same. She didn’t know what frightened her more. How much she wanted him to. Or what might happen tonight if he didn’t.

She nodded.

He nodded back, surveying her with eyes pale and dead. He set himself down slowly. With both hands resting against his thighs, he breathed as slow as he’d moved.

“Tomorrow,” He spoke, facing forward. “Strong. Don’t want to kill you.”

_Just him. Not a trick._

He was different. She could tell by the sound of his voice. That was the only way to recognize the others. Even then, it was hard. But she was _almost_ sure of it. He wasn’t one of the Whisperers that dragged her outside of the camp yesterday. She never usually tried to fight it. But she wanted to prove to Alpha that she wasn’t weak, just this once.

She was. Otherwise she would’ve been strong enough to fend them off.

_Be strong. You have to be strong. Not weak._

They were going to kill her tomorrow. When they saw she wouldn’t be able to walk with them. To keep up. If Alpha didn’t notice, then the same ones from yesterday would, and they’d see an opportunity to do the same thing to her again, and again the day after that. It would never stop. And now, _he_ might kill her if he didn’t see improvement by the morning.

Lydia squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the darkness would shield her eyes. It was just getting too much to bear. She couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t want to die.

 _Don_ _’t. Fight it. Fight it._

“I—I’m sorry.” She apologized, giving the one before her a response her mother had heard one too many times. Her voice gave way, snapping in half like a twig, and the tears started to brew. “Everything hurts.” It was no excuse. She knew that.

“Scared they will come back tonight.” She whimpered, finding it hard to form sentences between the uneven breaths, trying her hardest to whisper when all she wanted to do was something worse. Burying her head into her knees, she gritted her teeth together, trying not to make a sound as she began to sob.

Again, he said nothing. He’d waited until more of the others left. Until the campfire had no one else around. Only then, did he whisper to Lydia.

“Keep you safe. For tonight.” He looked at her. “Trust me?”

She almost couldn’t believe her ears. _Almost._

It got the girl to look up, not just to dry her tears with her wrist. But to meet his gaze. An actual night where she could close her eyes and not have to worry? Could it be one of Alpha’s tests? Or was it real? “You… mean it?”

“Not lying?” She asked, with a renewed sense of hope.

He stood up carefully, looking behind his shoulder, before snapping his gaze quickly back to her. He extended his hand. “Please.”

For a moment, she thought he’d dropped the act. That he was finally getting up to come and attack her. But it didn’t happen. Instead, Lydia was staring at a hand bearing a tattered glove that stopped just short at the knuckles. She took a breath and swallowed, before again, looking into his eyes.

“Okay…” She finally said, before taking his hand.

They walked a very short mile, until the fire was just a golden tint at their backs, long away from view. She walked with him, if one could consider it _walking_. More like hobbling. She had to use him as support the entire way there. All while bearing the nagging sensation at the back of her mind, that he was leading her into another trap. That feeling only subsided when she reluctantly made her way into the tent.

“Here,” he whispered, letting go of her hand and said one last thing before ducking inside: “Wait. Be back soon.”

Outside, there was nothing to listen for. Only more whispers. They went on, and on, and on… until they ended, as a single word. Hostile and loud.

“ _No_.”

Then it was quiet. Only once the silence had set back in did the boy leave the tend and drag its folds open, motioning Lydia in. It had nothing but a single cloth to lie over, and another to lie under.

Small, but cozy.

Lydia glanced around rather awkwardly, noticing another Whisperer who was ‘sleeping’.

She decided to pay no mind, and not to bite the hand that fed her.

Eventually, she found a spot to settle into. And, for once, had something soft to lie down on. No one would be able to find her here, not unless they _really_ tried. She was safe, for now. Upon realizing it, she turned over to the one who’d let her inside. “Thank you…”

“Thank you so much.”

There was a pause. “Wish I… could do more,” he said, and left it at that.

The next time Lydia opened her eyes, it was to squint at a small shard of sunlight that peaked through the folds. That split second of complete obliviousness followed. It was because _this time_ , she hadn’t woken to the feeling of wind hitting her face, or grime smudged into the side of her cheek. But to the warmth of a blanket.

Only then, did the Whisperer remember where she was.

She winced, hauling herself upright into a sitting position, before glancing around the _now_ empty tent. It still hurt, maybe not as much as yesterday. But there was no way her injuries would be gone after one night, and maybe that was a foolish thing to want to believe anyway.

The faint sound of crackling met her ears, coming from outside. Lydia crawled towards the end of the tent, peeking through the small gap. Only to see the same boy from last night, his back turned to her. Tending to a fire.

Against her better judgement, which was telling her to leave immediately, Lydia dragged herself out of the tent. Her rotted boots thumped against the leftovers of dead canopy that’d fallen from above.

Slowly but surely, she joined his side. Her right arm hung low, and her other hand cradled its elbow. All was silent, as she watched several shades of orange flicker into each other.

“The other one.” She murmured. “Wasn’t very happy last night...”

Even though she was welcomed in, it wasn’t like she didn’t have ears. It was easy to tell when she wasn’t wanted around, and she understood why. Did they know who she was? Better she left the mask on just in case. It was selfish of her to accept his help, to put herself at risk of being punished, _and_ him.

“I won’t do it again.”

“Other one says… he’ll warn the Alpha. Next time.” He said, extending his gloves towards the fire pit, cursling fingers into fists before stretching them out. Turning away. “Don’t blame him. Scared. Scared they might… think he’s helping me. Might kill him too.”

His voice cracked, even in that soft whisper. He turned his attention back to her. “Not me. Can’t watch it happen anymore. Do nothing.”

Pain.

She could see it in his eyes, hear it through his voice. A cold shiver ran all the way down her spine, and a pair of widened eyes were all she had to offer in return. Not for herself, but for him.

Misery. It had a habit of following her around, affecting everyone that dared get near her. Even the… ones that didn’t prey on her, like vultures. She didn’t want him to feel like it was his fault, _her_ weakness had nothing to do with him. Afterall, the strongest of animals weren’t expected to help each other in the wild, they fended for themselves.

When he spoke again, his gaze locked onto an object on the ground. “Could… make it go away,” he said. “Want me to?”

Lydia’s eyes trailed downwards, settling on the silver object that stuck out like a sore thumb in the crisp morning light. The same one _he_ was staring at. Silence lingered on, and so did the thoughts in the Whisperer’s head.

Why was it? That it felt like she could breathe again? Better than she had in a long time.

The snap of a twig announced another’s presence. “Lydia,” she said, her voice a whisper in the wind. “I’ve been looking all over for you. You worry me.”

Lumps plagued Lydia’s throat, ones she couldn’t swallow no matter how many times she tried. If she could shrivel down to the size of the very leaves she stood on, the Whisperer would’ve done it in a heartbeat.

Discomfort was all throughout her chest, heart pounding and pulsating even harder… responding to the sound of a singular voice. Softer than silk, yet it had Lydia feeling weak at the knees.

Her eyes then locked onto the boy, voice lowering. Bitter. Sharp.

“But I… see you’ve… made a friend.”

“No…” He said quickly, eyes large. “Wanted to share tactics,” he went on in a panicked manner. “Lonely. Out of line.”

Right then. Lydia wanted to vomit.

“He’s not my friend.” She huffed out, hoping it’d get her attention away from _him_.

“Just, helping with the fire.” She explained, keeping her gaze where it always belonged in her mother’s presence. The ground.

“Lydia,” she cooed the name, shaking her head. “You know better than to lie to me.”

Metal glinted in the morning light as she held a blade to the boy’s throat, bending her knees to be at their eye level.

“You were weak. So he helped you. He was weak. And together, you tried to be strong. But you’re not. Ain’t that right, Lydia?” Her head tilted, waiting for a reply.

Every bit of willpower she had left, was snuffed out at the sight of a blade, hovering dangerously close to that boy’s neck. She was trying, for a while now. Trying so hard to pick up the many pieces her mind and body had been shattered into. But the Whisperer couldn’t pretend anymore, to be something she wasn’t.

And so. Lydia crumbled. Falling to her hands and knees, at Alpha’s feet. At her mercy.

“I asked for help, I know I shouldn’t have but I did!” Whispers turned to pleads. Lydia knew who she was talking to. The Alpha. But she hoped that someone else would answer, now more than ever. “It — it’s not his fault, it’s mine…!”

“Please don’t hurt him…” If Alpha killed him for helping her, _the only_ one that would, she didn’t see a way to live with it. The guilt.

She found an ounce of courage to lift her head, just this once. To meet her mother’s eyes with her own. Stained with tears she couldn’t hold in anymore.

“Please, Mom.”

She seemed to think about it. Eyes moving from the boy to her daughter. Then back again. “This will not happen again,” she said, finality in her voice “You won’t ever show weakness again. You understand. The next time you do, I know who to punish for it.”

She made no move to lower the knife.

“Yes, mot—” She stuttered, catching herself this time, before it was said again. A chance. Those didn’t come. Not for anyone else she saw that showed weakness. _Why now?_

She lowered her head again, bowing. Her chest hurt, and her breath was ragged.

“Alpha.”

She did eventually lower her knife, looking all too pleased with the thin slit she’d made into the boy’s throat. She stood up, her blade remaining at her side.

“Meet me near the clearing after you eat. You’ll need your strength,” she told her daughter. “We’ve still got a lot to do.”

Lydia almost couldn’t believe it, but gently nodded all the same. She remained on her knees, hoping that would be the end of it. Still, that sick feeling would never subside until all was silent, and she could only hear the soft, peaceful groans of the guardians.

* * *

_5:15 PM - August 4, 2026 - Hydroelectric Dam in Jackson County_

It felt peaceful here, at least when compared to the bustling hubbub of chaos that was Jackson. The streets were less dense, save for the occasional dozen or so workers that would show up to maintain the power supply. They were far enough away not to care about bothering her, though, which Lydia was grateful for.

By now, the girl had forgotten just how long it’d been since she sat down here. Her back was against a tree stump, in such a position that her clothes were damp from last night’s storm, but she couldn’t care less. She fixed a solemn gaze on the smidgen of light she could see through the clouds, which offered her mind the moment of respite it desperately needed. She dreaded the wretched moment of picking herself up and having to go back ‘home’. If that’s what she could even still call it.

Today felt no different from yesterday in terms of what was going on with her, on the inside _and_ out. Thoughts ran across her mind, some more unpleasant than others — ones she was glad no one else would know.

Scuffs of mud clouded the fingers on Lydia’s right hand, which had been continuously scraping away into the moistened dirt, leaving a small hole with a mound beside it. Eventually, she brought her fist into her lap, staring at it for a moment. She slowly opened her hand, revealing the slimy, wriggling little bodies of what she’d dug up from the ground. She fixed her gaze on the lower life forms for the longest time, eyes devoid of any expression. They were so weak. Powerless. Oblivious to their impending fate… Feelings that Lydia supposed she was very well accustomed to herself.

With Jackson’s current state, Lydia couldn’t help but wonder if it really _was_ true. That places like this were trying to hold on to a way of life that was already long dead, and would eventually fall one way or another. Only time would answer that question, but if she ever had to go back to _these_ types of drastic measures again, then she might as well put herself to the test.

Without even trying to prepare herself first, Lydia violently forced a worm into her mouth. At a steady pace, she chewed down on its spongy texture as it squiggled against her tongue. It was going well, she thought — that was, until the gagging and retching started.

Lydia tried to resist, placing a hand over her mouth as her eyes watered. Her body knew what it wanted, though, and with a few more heaves, she lurched forward to her hands and knees, spluttering out a mashed variant of what she’d just tried to swallow.

The rest of the worms were still in the girl’s hand, but not for long, since she threw them as far away from her as she possibly could. Lydia sat there, panting, eyes widened, and quite frankly dumbfounded at what she’d just done. One thing was certain, though — a harsh truth that she wasn’t sure how to accept…

“Fuck…”

“Eh… hmm… We got food back in Jackson, you know?”

Somehow, without even needing to catch a glance at the full outline of his silhouette, Lydia knew it was him. Carl had, of course, decided to follow her — much to the girl’s embarrassment. She’d bet the one-eyed kid thought she looked like some weird nutcase right now… which, to his credit, probably wasn’t far from the truth. Her body remained frozen in place, gaze trying to fix itself on anything that wasn’t the other teenager who’d just slumped down next to her.

“You trying to be funny?” Lydia knew he wasn’t, but she genuinely didn’t know what else to say. The blonde turned to face him, meeting his confused glare before giving in to the pressure almost immediately. “Look, I’m not being gross, I just… need to be sure I can still m—” She stuttered, eyes squeezing shut at the words ready to come out of her mouth.

“Don’t know how much longer I can stand it here, Carl.” Even in the most desperate of conditions, the fact that she couldn’t even swallow a stupid worm anymore was worrying. She’d spent too long here, and it’d made her weaker. How would she ever expect to survive in the wilderness if this place ever fell?

Tripp was the leader now, and Lydia really doubted he’d be able to do much for Jackson, given what his noble ‘first act’ of leadership had been. How long until Negan sucked their food supply dry? Until it was only _Saviors_ that lived here?

It might as well have been _all_ Saviors, because these days Lydia had trouble telling the difference between _them_ and certain Jackson residents she _thought_ were genuine. Maybe they all deserved each other in the end.

“It’s all falling apart… a—and I don’t know what to do.”

Carl probably didn’t know how to answer that, thinking and planning, but eventually he said, “I know this place sucks right now, but I don’t think leaving is any better. It’s harsh outside. I’ve been there. Not alone, though. I don’t think I’d have made it without a group. And I’m not trying to say you’re not strong enough. Shit, you’re probably better than me at surviving in the wilderness. But, out there, it’s not about _if_ , it’s about **_when_**. No matter how good you are.”

She knew he had a point, though she couldn’t help but wonder if the part about staying was just a bunch of drivel from one _very_ overly optimistic child. It was so typical of Carl, always trying to believe the best in other people — a trait she found to be ridiculous, yet always admired him for all the same. However, in this case… she just couldn’t see whatever _he_ saw in these people, no matter how hard the girl tried. Then again, he always gelled well into their way of life, while Lydia remained outside the circle… and maybe that was her own fault. Even so, what good was a group when all they ever did was fight each other?

“You saw what happened to Clementine. All it takes is one mistake… then that’s it. You’re out.” She shrugged, knowing that when all those layers of the situation were stripped away, the simple fact was that Jackson had pretty much thrown a kid out there to die. “I guess people here don’t need skin masks to do the same shit my mom used to. They just call it a ‘vote’ now.” Total bullshit was what it was. There was nothing fair about appealing to a bunch of clueless lynch mobs.

She went silent — fought her hardest to keep it that way, but all the same, she decided that she didn’t give a shit anymore. It wasn’t like anyone else would hear this.

 _Screw it_ _…_

“Y’know, I could’ve said something back at the church. About what I did to Dwight. Maybe even try to get Clementine off the hook… Chose not to.” The blonde had long accepted that Dwight’s murder had been a mistake. Killing him did _nothing_ for them in the end. Clementine wouldn’t have had anything to shoot at if Dwight was around to lead Negan off Jackson’s trail. Lydia, being the one who’d pulled the trigger, had to live with what she assumed to be a certain fact… There was no denying that she could’ve given Dwight a chance to prove himself, something the girl wished she’d done now more than ever. The secret that only Carl had kept only served to eat away at her every day since.

“Wanna know why?” She turned to face the boy, amusement in her tone, yet her eyes spun a complete different tone — almost soulless. “I think… in my own fucked up head, I told myself I needed this place more than she did. That I _deserved_ it more. No way was I giving it up.” She explained, describing what was nothing more than an attempt at self-preservation on her end. It only made her hate Ellie even more for not being there to act on her inability to stop Clementine’s exile. It was hardly smart for Lydia to throw herself under the bus, even less so to be ostracized again. Even after the short girl with the ballcap had saved her life, she _still_ wasn’t willing to fully return the favor.

“Funny, right?” Surely, even someone like Carl couldn’t defend Lydia’s true nature. If anything, it’d be amusing for her to see him try.

“You want my opinion?” He asked, his voice telling her he would say it anyway. “In that moment, I didn’t know what was right. It was just a shitty situation. They were out for blood. In hindsight, I kinda wish I _had_ done something.” He paused, collecting himself. “I could’ve said something, too, but I didn’t. I don’t really feel good about it, but I didn’t want to get any more people in trouble. I didn’t want to be the one to throw you under the bus.”

“We all do things we later regret because we need to survive. I like to think that we, as a community, are past that, but reality keeps insisting to prove me wrong.” His eye fell to the ground, but it eventually focused on Lydia again. “In the end, it’s your choice. If you really wanna leave, I don’t blame you, and there’s nothing I can do. But, if you feel regret about Clem, you can still do something. Make sure that you staying here was worth it. Don’t waste your opportunity. Don’t let other people take away a good thing from you.”

None of this felt earned in the slightest.

Carl’s insistence that she could make up for what happened; his belief that the troubled girl still had the right to feel a sense of worth, _after_ everything she’d done… The boy genuinely believed those qualities in her, ones Lydia knew just didn’t exist, which only made her feel even more rotten. Even if she did feel some sort of guilt, the girl knew that she’d have no issues with doing the same thing again in a heartbeat if it meant her own survival.

Too scared to tell the others about Dwight, afraid to give out information that might’ve stopped someone from getting kicked out, and to top it all off… she was too frightened to do the one thing she could think of to make up for all of it.

_Leave._

She thought hard for a moment, eyes gently drifting down to the grass at her feet. “Fine,” she reluctantly hushed out, barely a whisper. “Let’s try your way.”

Even if she didn’t entirely agree with Jackson’s leadership, and the dung heap of Saviors that were piling in, she’d try to stick around… because maybe there were still _certain_ things she could do to make it right. Whether or not Carl agreed with those things, that would be a different story.

“For now.”

* * *

_2024_

Onwards they walked. Droves upon droves of them, all melded together in complete unison, heading for the same direction. Whenever a migration came, it was always a sight to see. Nestled right in the middle, was where Lydia felt her safest. No outsider could touch her here. The guardians numbered in the thousands, and would keep her safe. They always did.

It was hard for her _not_ to notice the figure beside her. The one who kept trying to get her attention. Might have been for the untrained eye. Lydia would glance over, only when she finally grew tired of pretending the boy wasn’t there.

Was he _trying_ to anger the guardians?

If she was caught with him again, it’d spell certain punishment. He knew that as well as she did. After narrowly escaping a beating last time, it frustrated her that he was still doing this.

She followed, nonetheless. Not planning on getting caught. And once they were in the clear, she would speak.

“You shouldn’t be coming near me. You need to stop.” This wasn’t just for his sake, but what he was doing... It risked disturbing the migration path.

He led her through an open doorway. “Won’t make you stay,” he said, voice calm. Inside were only darkened blues, save for the sunlight coming from the windows. Lydia looked around the rotten ceiling, the broken displays, the shredded pieces of paper…

She watched as the boy looked at the skeletons deeper into the building, where the smell of corroded metal came from. Words were written on plastic surfaces, rats crawled through checkered floors, and finally, a row of seats separated by tables that reached up to their waist.

The boy had pulled off his mask and set it limply on the table, before finding himself a spot on one of the seats. “Can take yours off, too,” he said. “It’s safe.”

“Feel safer with it on.” Did that come off more brash than she intended? Hard to know. Even harder to resist peering over her shoulder every half-minute. Even now, she felt anxious that one of Alpha’s spies would sneak up on them.

Lydia shifted her weight from foot to foot, before taking a seat on the ground once she grew tired of it, her back pressing up against a decaying slab of rendered concrete. The building looked ready to fall apart, a sign of how useless these structures were now. Remnants of a different era. One that was over.

What was going on with him? She pondered it, ever since they met. How he so openly stuck his neck out for her. Why now? When he knew there was an even bigger chance of getting his throat slit. Did he not understand that his life was in danger? She didn’t want to see him punished, like she had so many others.

“Are you… okay?” It was the least she could say, after her mother almost killed him. Thinking about it, only made her stomach churn.

“Fine,” he said, in his soft, trying-to-be-convincing voice. He gazed at her from the seat next to the boarded windows, rubbing at his unkempt features.

“I’m leaving today. Won’t come back.” His eyebrows fell, and the boy looked angry, more than she’d ever seen from him. “Want you… to come, too.”

 _Okay_ _… he’s not okay._

Something was wrong with his head.

Lydia shot him a glance, one that resembled a fine balance between appalled and confused. Words that desperately wanted to come out were lodged deep within her throat. Never to be heard, lest she found the courage to speak them.

“You should rest when we stop again. Eat. Clear your head.” She spoke, unsure if it sounded more like a threat… or a plea.

“Nothing out there for you… or me. Now please stop.” Lydia directed her eyes to the floor, hoping the silence was enough of a hint for him to toss those thoughts from his mind. Before it got him killed.

“Can’t,” the boy told her. “Won’t.”

Teeth gritted, he parted his lips and continued to speak. “What we do… what I’ve done…” His eyes fell as breath seemed to catch in his throat. “What they do to you,” he said. “It’s sickening.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, visible behind the comfort of her own mask.

“ **It** **’s nature.** ”

She showed weakness, was scared. He saw. Now he was leaving, because she got him in trouble with Alpha. _Your fault. You need to convince him. You need him to stay._

“It just makes me stronger.”

His expression remained unchanged. His grasped fingers turned to fists along the tabletop, as he stared down Lydia. He raised his voice to ask, “Do you feel stronger?”

So odd... to hear what his voice truly sounded like, when it wasn’t shrouded by a layer of hush.

The air in the room suddenly became thicker to breathe, and Lydia couldn’t help but start to wonder if she was playing with fire. Not like that would stop her now.

“You know what I feel about it?” Dirty nails dug into her own skin, and the girl matched his volume, when every fibre in her being told her not to.

“Nothing.”

Just like the ones roaming around outside, that’s how it needed to be. _That_ _’s_ how they’d survive. She couldn’t afford to make anymore mistakes, not anymore. “And so should you.”

That made him jump out of the seat, arm stretched violently at his side. “This?” He practically yelled. “This isn’t living!”

As the boy’s chest fell and rose, and his teeth chattered in anguish, his next words came out in a solemn whisper. “I’ll kill her. If that’s what it takes. I’ll kill Alpha.”

“Really?” Lydia asked, when she found the nerve to glare at the boy. Only daring to when he’d finished screaming at her, all while something unkindly started to boil inside her gut.

The girl found her footing, turquoise eyes studying him from head to toe, watching silently as he seethed. Even then, all she could offer in return was something rather emotionless. In that moment, the look on her face seemed even more dead than the ones roaming outside.

Lydia took a step forward, then another, and slowly continued until she was just inches away from the other Whisperer. The knocking against her chest was unbearable now, as was listening to anymore of what he had to say.

“I don’t think you will.” That was when she leaned upwards, making sure to stick her face right in front of his. “I think you’re too weak and afraid to do _anything_... other than run away from your people like a big coward.”

That got to him. With damp eyes, and not a pause to go with it, he said, “I’m not a coward.”

One of Lydia’s hands found the taller Whisperer’s, lifting it upwards, before her other placed something cold and sharp in it. She forced his palm and fingers around the handle, making sure he had a firm grip of the blade.

“Then prove it. _Right here._ ”

He wrapped his gloved fingers around the knife, gaping at it. He looked back at Lydia once before forcing his eyes shut. “How?”

Muddied chunks of hair flopped over her eyes as the mask slid off, and Lydia peered down at its rotten facade, thumbs trailing over the texture.

“I remember you asked me, if I wanted you to.” Lydia said, calmly dropping her face next to the other one on the table.

Her tone was more firm than before, even when it felt like two invisible hands were crushing her windpipe. This time, Lydia knew, after what felt like an everlasting uncertainty.

“ _I do._ ”

His eyes refused to meet hers, but it didn’t matter, because the girl’s expressionless face had no tale worth telling. She didn’t even need him to look... only to listen.

“Make it go away.”

**[[Music]](https://youtu.be/na4s138R2EI) **

He nodded, twice, holding the knife close to his chest. The sweet embrace of a cold blade would soon close in on her. It was going to hurt. She imagined choking on her own blood would... but only for a few moments before the girl would finally drift away into a deep, deep sleep.

Then, she could rest, and rise again, as one of the dead. It was the only way she would ever be accepted. How beautiful would it be, when she rejoined her people? Cleansed of every nasty little detail that ran through her mind every night.

No more burden of memory. No more burden of weakness.

She was ready.

Lydia soaked in the smidge of sunlight that peaked through the window, closing her eyes. The girl waited for the killing blow, the one that would make it all stop.

Her eyes would only open again, to the sound of a knife hitting the floor.

“No.”

He was crying.

“NO!”

Lydia grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking him so that he might be forced to look at her, to snap out of it. “Y—You said you could do it. That’s what you said!” Only now, did it sink in that he never intended to follow through.

It all came out in a blubbering mess, broken words to go along with broken promises. “I can’t! Not by myself!” Her face was bright red, and tears hopelessly spilled down the girl’s cheeks. “You will not leave me like this!”

Why did everyone want to torture her? Why did everyone hate her?

She pulled him in closer by the shirt, screaming even louder so that it might register into his coward brain.

“YOU **WILL NOT** FUCKING LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!”

James grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her away, backing away at a slow pace. He wouldn’t look at her. “I’m leaving…” he tried to say, then raised his voice to say it again. “I’m leaving. Let me help.”

She already tried to let him help, but he refused to.

The very moment he was gone, there would be no one else. **No one.**

At least before... it helped, knowing he was there to stop people from hurting her. Served her right for thinking it could last forever.

A pain shot through the girl’s chest, unlike anything she’d felt in a long time.

Lydia fell to her knees, having exhausted all of her options. “I’ll do anything...” She hunched over, sobbing into his boot, before wrapping both of her arms around his ankle, to stop him from walking out. She’d hold on for however long it took to convince him.

It didn’t matter how much she tried to pretend in front of him before… _this_ is what she would always be. “Please, don’t go.”

“ **Please stay.** ”

He could only hang his head in shame. Before long, all Lydia could do was watch as he forced himself to walk away.

Leaving her all alone.


	6. Grounded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, new content! Sorry about the wait for these, in the midst of working on Book 3 scenes, we had little time to finish up the first scene for this chapter, but it's finally done.
> 
> Also, if you haven't read the chapter before this since it was released, two new scenes were added to it at the beginning and end. They're super cool, so check 'em out too! :)

_ 6:52 PM — May 17, 2026 (Five weeks before Negan) _

The guitar sung chords aplenty in the waning sunlight filtering through the lodge windows. Tommy’s feet were still perched atop the table, swaying with the beat of the song he’s playing. Only a few minutes had passed since Joel and Ellie left for the guitar center, and he watched Clementine return to her comic book as if the thing was glued to her face.

It was about time to broach his own plan.

“Reckon they’re gonna be awhile,” he said as he let his feet hit the floor, propping the guitar against the table. “I got a little somethin’ I need to get. Some feathers for Andrea’s hat. There’s a bird nest not too far up the trail. Bluebirds, I think. Might do nicely to liven that thing up.”

“Whatddya say?” He put on his signature smile, hoping it’d work its charm. “Up for a little stroll?”

Getting that girl to open up for five minutes would do nicely, ‘stead of being absorbed into those comics all day. Been this long since Joel had dropped her at the gates’n he hardly knew a thing about her.

“Huh?” She muttered under her breath while flipping through another page. Whatever he said had obviously gone through one ear and out the other. She set the comic down, begrudgingly, while trying not to grumble loud enough for him to hear. “Whatever.”

He did hear, though. Comes with having to take care of a kid of your own. Sort of.

She strapped a backpack around her loose grey tee and set off alongside him. “Did you say feathers?” She asked with only one foot out the door. “Who wants  _ feathers _ ?”

“What? Y’ain’t ever seen a western?” He sighed at his own question. “No, ‘course not. Oughta tell Lee to educate you and Ellie on ‘em. Really missin’ out.”

“Y’see, they used to put feathers in the band of their hats. Some looked kinda tacky, but if you get the right kind, with the right hat…” He clicked his tongue, spreading out his hands in front of them as they walked as if showing off the non-existent cowboy hat. “Nothin’ looks better.”

One glance towards Clementine gave him the answer to the unspoken question. His shoulders dropped by an inch as he tried to take it down a notch, shifting the rifle slung over his right shoulder. “Look, I know you’re not all that interested. I just appreciate you agreein’. I need something to get Andrea to talk to me, and I’m runnin’ out of ideas.”

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll find some more infected. Get you a chance at the rifle, too.” He patted the barrel of the gun lightly, hoping that’d be enough to pique her interest. “Ellie took out a few hordes with this bad boy earlier. I hear you’re gettin’ good with that one Lee got ya.”

“No, thanks,” she said, “The less infected, the better.” They trudged through leaves and branches alike, before the girl spoke up once more. “Hey, so… do you always go around looking for stuff?” She gave a light snicker. “Is that supposed to make girls like you?”

“Mighta worked back in the day. Not so sure now,” Tommy admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

Last time he’d courted a woman was...  _ God _ , ages ago. Before the outbreak. That kinda thing usually wasn’t a priority when the rest of the world was trying to kill you. With Andrea, it was a bit different. Sure, she was pretty, and they’ve known each other for  _ years _ , but runnin’ a place like this took a lot of work. In another life, maybe.

“Maybe I’d oughta be askin’ you. New generation and all.” Tommy casted a glance towards the girl as the trail inclined into a dense forest. “And don’t tell me it’s ice cream, ‘cause that stuff’s a fortune these days.” He chuckled.

She rolled her eyes, though he could see the slightest bit of a smile on her face. “Okay. No to ice cream.” She crossed one of her arms and avoided his gaze. “With a girl,” she said, “you should be more direct. None of the friendly stuff.”

She scrunched her nose, raising her voice. “And no westerns. Just a hunch.”

By then, the trees and foliage began opening up towards a field, letting in the rest of the Sun. Clementine added one more thing while she hid her eyes from the light. “I mean, have you  _ tried _ giving her flowers?”

He couldn’t help another chuckle. “I’m trying to apologize to her, not woo her.” The field stretched onward, bending at the edges into hills and mountains that threatened to block out the Sun’s waning light. The bird nest he’d seen before was not too far ahead. Though…

He glanced back towards Clementine with a raised eyebrow, chewing his lip as if it’d help him come to a decision. “…Y’think that’d work?” The act of asking aloud had him feeling like an idiot, and only partially because of who he was directing it to.

“I don’t know,” Clementine said coyly, flashing a smile. “ _ Are _ you trying to woo her?”

Tommy let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Can’t tell you,” he said, returning the smile with one of his own. Two can play that game. “It’s classified.”

And, to his relief, the nest he’d seen before came into view, perched atop a branch low enough to reach. He sifted through it for a second and brought back a pair of blue feathers, placing them gently into a spare pocket of his backpack. Next, he picked a couple flowers from the ground and stuck them into an empty water holder on the side. Placing the straps back over his shoulders, he turned back towards Clementine.

“Never said I can’t do both.” Shifting the weight of the backpack, he ushered her back towards the lodge. “How about you tell me ‘bout that comic you’ve got your nose stuck in. One of Ellie’s, right?”

The girl had eyed a pair of daisies and plucked one out for herself, letting it sit still in the front pocket of her shirt. “I don’t know,” she said, again, her eyes elsewhere. “It’s cool, I guess.”

“It’s... cool?” Tommy let out an incredulous breath, shaking his head. “C’mon, throw me a bone here.”

This would be a pretty awkward — and quiet — walk back if she didn’t.

Clementine rubbed at her shoulder as if squeezing the words out. “It’s about space travel. And aliens, and stuff…” She sighed. “And Ellie reads it. Like, all the time.”

Feet grinding against the grass, Clem resorted to the same three words that always got her by: “I don’t know, I just wanted to… look at it?”

Like pulling teeth. God, he had no idea how Joel did it. Or Lee, for that matter. Being a goddamned teacher must’ve been Hell on Earth. “Don’t gotta explain anythin’ to me,” he said, hoping she didn’t think he was gonna judge her for her choice of comic book. “If you and Ellie like it, I’m sure it’s good.”

Science Fiction ain’t exactly his forte, but he knew enough to get around. Just don’t start talking about whatchamacallit manifolds or spacetime nonsense. Can only take so much of that before getting a headache.

Getting back to the familiar trail had each of Tommy’s steps feeling lighter and lighter, though he knew that would only be temporary. Confronting Andrea once they got back was gonna… well, suck.  _ Just remember to apologize, the rest oughta come naturally. Hopefully. _

Now to fill the silence for the rest of the walk back.

“Alright, coolest character in the comic. Go.”

“Daniela Star,” Clementine said without a second thought. “Obviously.”

Tommy turned to look at her, waiting for the inevitable spew of thoughts to leave her mouth.

“She’s this super smart scientist, flying around from system to system,” Clementine tried to explain. “She figured out how to travel through lightspeed all on her own. And that’s  _ before _ she led the human resistance against the Travellers.” Her face grew red, before she added. “I mean, that’s just… she’s just so awesome.”

“And she’s great at fighting, too! You should’ve seen what she does on issue number six, it’s totally nasty.” Clementine couldn’t help sounding nervous. The red on her face boiled into a stronger, warmer hue, before she frowned at the fields. “If I could do stuff like that, I bet Lydia would start thinking twice.”

It was nice to hear her so passionate about something. Half the time, he thought the world out here had taken all that childhood wonder away from her, but maybe he’d been wrong. Certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

And, at the mention of Lydia, Tommy couldn’t help but chuckle. “Lydia already thinks twice. Why d’ya think she always comes to me when you two have a spat?”

“You listen to her, you’d think you were some stone-cold killer locked up in Alcatraz.” He scratched at his beard, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a badass. Have to be to survive as long as y’all did. But I reckon she’s just jealous of ya. She ain’t had it nice since we took her in.”

People could be real shitbags when they wanted to be. Tommy had had his doubts about her too, back when they first dealt with the Whisperers and took her in. But she’d proven her worth... it’d just taken her a while to do it.

“Don’t let her get into your head, okay?”

“How can I not?” Clementine protested, a tiny bit aghast, waving her hands around as if just being loud didn’t cut it. “There’s  _ nothing _ about  _ me _ to be jealous about!”

“I mean—” She sighed, choosing her words carefully. “What’s so good about being a ‘badass’ if I can’t make any friends? Out there I’m just… freaky little Clementine, who can’t remember her own last name.”

Tommy wasn’t gonna pretend he knew what he was doing. Carl, while being in his care like a son, had long adapted to life in Jackson. And life as a teenager. Clementine, though, had always struggled with that, even the first time they were here. So, with a sigh, he started slowly, “A part of life is… realizin’ not everyone’s gonna like you. And… you gotta accept that.”

“But, it’s the ones that do. The ones that have your back when you need it most.” He’d met only a few people like that. Fewer that were still left alive. His eyes flicked over to Clementine next to him. “Those people are what make any life worth living.”

Now, here was the part she probably wouldn’t like. “Teenagers…” he began, “especially your age, are cruel. They’re insecure ‘cause they think you’re better than them. Better suited for this world.”

He stopped by a tree near the trail they’d first taken down to get to the lodge, propping a hand against it. “And, seems to me, that you got all the friends you could ever need. Carl likes you, even if Lydia gets in the way of that sometimes. Joel. Lee. Ellie, ‘specially.”

“And Jenny liked you.” He smiled wistfully, though it faded just as quick. Thinkin’ about those days, before the herd accident, always felt like a knife to the gut. “Always found her to be an excellent judge of character. Even she realized that half them kids are just a buncha posers.”

“Eventually, when the rest of these little fuckers grow up, they’ll realize just how great you are. Then, you get to be smug about it to their faces. How’s that sound?”

Clementine beamed, despite the fact that she looked eager to hide it. “Sounds awesome,” she told him in what had to sound like confidence. “But, like... until then, I’m okay with the friends I got. Change can be kinda scary. “ She checked up on the flower in her breast pocket, taking it in. “Well, sometimes.”

Clem faced him with the same smile, and spoke up as if she wasn’t sure if she should. “Personally? I hope Andrea takes you up on that. You’re definitely the cooler brother.”

The signature grin was back. “I know,” he said, totally not at all sounding smug about it either. “And, I hope so, too.”

There was certainly a lot on their plates right now, but at least this… times like these… make it all worth it.

He just had to hope for the best. Everything’ll work themselves out eventually.

* * *

_ 7:05 PM - August 20, 2026 _

She’d lost track of time. But hadn’t everyone else lost track of her, too?

Another thing Clem couldn’t recall — if not, preferred to forget — were the many hours she’d spent searching for chestnuts that morning. Not like they were a rare find, right? So how come they were so freaking well hidden? Her recipe was a bust without  _ those _ . Speaking of recipes; straying from that bland stew was one disaster after another. How anyone was meant to make dinner without — without stuff to  _ cook _ eluded her. She knew being a picky eater would catch up to her eventually... Today was it.

But, the chestnuts couldn’t hide forever. Her list was long that day: mushrooms, garlic chives and shallots. Clementine had mapped out the perfect evening, if only she could avoid setting her only pot on fire again.

For one, it was good to be home early, dirty clothes set aside for the few hours she could afford to. Clem had a yellow jersey on and a soft pair of lounge pants. She  _ couldn’t believe _ how many clothes from the room upstairs actually fit her.

Just as the smell of  _ real _ food started making her nose tingle, and she would’ve loved to bask in it for a while, until the front door shook behind her. It was such a bad sound, Clementine couldn’t tell what she’d rather have it be... Or who she’d rather have knocking on her door. The girl rushed toward the spear lying against the armchair by the living room, untying the blade strapped to the edge. She took it with her — a knife behind her back — and Clementine warily opened the door.

At least it wasn’t Ellie, but since when had that started being good news? She thought that schmuck had come to laugh in her face, best case scenario. The arm in the back of her hip twitched, but didn’t move. If only she could blink, or shut that jaw of hers that hung so close to the floor. Clem would’ve asked how he found her, were the words not trapped  _ who knows _ where. If he’d shown up to finish the job, Clementine swore she’d stab him between the legs before they took her out.

The man sighed, drawn out in clear displeasure of seeing her face. It didn’t take long for it to be replaced by a small smile. “Trick or treat,” Negan joked. “I see you got something hidden, and I just got a feeling it ain’t gonna be some fucking candy corn.”

He took a step back, away from the door. “I don’t mean to be trespassing on your territory, Miss. Just so happens I’m a little lost out here. Don’t suppose you could help? I got some food in my car.” He indicated a vehicle behind him.

Something in that guy’s voice reeked of shady. Had they followed her, from all the way deep in the woods? The hunch had her four fingers twitching all the more. “Why don’t you ask your friends? I know they’re out there,” she managed to say, hiding her fear behind sullen eyes.

Negan chuckled. “Trust me, I’m here all alone.” He placed a hand on his chest. “Scout’s honor.” Smiling down at her, he raised an eyebrow. “What about you? You got any friends in this house?”

She didn’t like the sound of it at all. Tempting as it was to gut the guy, Clem wouldn’t let herself trust a word of his. All the dark outside made one shrub indistinct from the rest, but there had to be more. She’d stake her life on it.

Clementine gave Negan a look over before shutting the door in his face, and leaving without another peep. The girl ran back to the armchair, breathing louder by the minute. If it was up to her, she’d stay right there. When the door opened again, Clem had a rope in her hand: old and as used as that old knife of hers, which stayed where it was, hidden behind her back. “Turn around,” she demanded.

“I’d love to, but it’s dark as shit. Could be wolves, bears, and fucking tigers out there for all I know. And I just can’t have it on my conscience leaving you out here alone like this. People don’t last long alone.”

Clem had both brows arched and facing the ground. And as he opened his mouth again instead of listening, the girl knew then that she was done talking, too.

“Did they kick you out?” He asked. 

Negan had the time to say his piece, and Clementine tugged his arm the moment after, tying the rope around it. “I don’t give a shit about your sympathy.”

He sighed. “How do I know you won’t just kill me and steal my car?” Nothing in his voice even hinted if he was scared. “ _ If _ I wanted to kill you, trust me, you’d be dead, and I doubt you got any shit in there that I want, either.”

“Shut up.” She wrapped the end of the rope around his wrist, and then the other, twisting as hard as that strength of hers would allow. “I don’t care what you think, either...” Clementine tucked both ends of the rope around the circle between his hands and pulled on it twice to make sure it was tight. And she hoped it hurt. “...So quit moving.”

“Jeez, last time I was tied up this tight, I was — nevermind.” His voice was starting to grate on her nerves. “Do you have to be so serious about this? I’m just trying to talk.”

Yet he followed her orders, strolling forward. Clementine smashed the front door shut with the back of her foot. From the living room, she dragged a wooden drawer to push in front of it - blocking the door for good measure. No one else was coming in without her knowing.

“Okay.”

Negan had been watching her. “I’m telling ya, I’m alone out here,” he tried to insist. Not that she would listen.

Where to next? The kitchen was wide open, with two exits on each side: one leading to the porch, and another to a laundry room that’d sadly lost its purpose. She made him go there. “Sit down and don’t move,” was her next order. “Or I’ll cut you.” Clem didn’t much count on sounding threatening while wearing socks covered in polka dots, but she felt too anxious to care. The laundry had a creaky wooden chair leaned against a washing machine, though Negan could very well sit on the floor for all she cared.

Negan took his time walking into the room. “Stylish décor, fabulous furniture. Yeah, I’d give this place five stairs for a room to be forced in.” Walking towards the chair, he casually took a seat. “Does this place come with breakfast?”

Clementine peeked through every window, eyehole and tatter in the walls. She expected something by now. It was just the howling outside to greet her.

She strolled up to the laundry room with her knife in full view. She was fidgety, sweating cold. Dinner, a forgotten memory. “You and I are gonna wait. Right here,” she said, pointing at Negan as if about to jam a finger into his eye.

“If no one shows up, I’ll kill you.”

The threat made his eyes light up, for a moment. “I…” He started. “Jeez, kid, are you fucking kidding me? I come here with an offer of food and fucking anything else and you threaten me?” Negan shook his head. “Are you going to make some demand? Because at this point, I’m all fucking ears. Just fucking think about what you’re doing. The consequences.”

“I don’t need your food,” she lied. “And don’t call me  _ kid _ .”

She only waited a second before heading back to the kitchen, dragging a wooden chair across the cabin so she could sit in front of him. To watch. Negan made her blood boil. He laughed, smiled, joked, and wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Tommy and Carl’s dad... all those bandits from Pittsburgh who kept chasing them around — it was all this asshole’s fault. Her gut shouted at the sight of his twisted, ugly face, and Clem could only nod along with it. Only one cure for monsters as scary as him.

Until daylight came, she’d scare him back. Maybe he wouldn’t laugh so much  _ then _ .

“You wouldn’t even last the night, if Joel were here.” She leaned an arm over her knee, dangling the knife between her fingers. Clementine put on her ghost story voice and feigned being more depraved than she was. “Tommy’s brother? I bet he’d rip out your guts and feed it to the wolves.”

“Maybe I should go get him. Have him beat you up until you’re sorry.” The girl kept watching, not a blink or a twitch to follow.

The man actually shrugged. “Look, I ain’t gonna antagonize you while you got a knife pointing at me. That’s just bad manners. What you gotta know is I don’t give a flying fuck about this Joel guy. Right now, I’m talking to this badass girl in front of me, who’s got the balls to threaten  **me** .” He leaned forward slightly, eyes unwavering. “You got fight. Look, I know my group fucked your life up, seems that way at least. Do you think I wanted that to happen?” He fell silent for a moment. “You can join the Saviors if you want. You’d have free food, shelter, all that good shit for life. I feel like I owe ya. Beats living in this shithole, eating God knows what.”

“ _ No. _ ” She sounded so sharp, so poised, her words may as well have been cutting through the man. Clementine thought leaving it there would get that through to him, if anything did.

Clem kept her gaze in equal parts strong and still. He let her have him, she knew. Worse — he looked happy to be there, talking to her on his rickety chair. Clem was getting nervous again. Impatient. “Why’re you here? Really.” Her voice settled back to calm, though it was all pretend. Even if he did tell her the truth, she’d feel at a loss to believe a word. Clementine just wanted to stay in control... boss him around, keep him chatty, until she felt safe enough to kill him.

“Why am I here? Heh, wouldn’t you like to know.” Negan was tapping his foot lightly against the floor. “I was helping Jackson out, killing those infected fucks that surrounded your home. Thought I might stay here for the night. Didn’t know it was occupied.” He leaned forward again, as if trying to reel in her attention. “If I ain’t back there by tomorrow, they’re gonna assume it was Jackson’s fault. Safe to say, a lot of innocent people are going to get fucking murdered.”

He didn’t scare her with that talk, Clem decided. What did she care about Jackson? They all seemed to hate her anyway. Even her friends.

“ _ So don’t tell me Clementine doesn’t deserve getting kicked out... because it should’ve been  _ **_her_ ** _! _ ”

Clementine nodded to the ghost in her mind, losing Negan’s stare. It wasn’t all true. There  _ were _ people there, people she cared about. People she left behind. Saviors knew which. The girl’s four fingers tightened around the knife while the most important part of her: her eyes, they betrayed how hesitant she really was to say anything. If Negan did mean what he said...

“Why are  _ you _ here?” He asked. “It’s been ages, figured you would have fucked off somewhere else by now.”

“I plan to,” she answered, ignoring everything else he did say. Ignoring until she couldn’t. “They kicked me out... because of—”  _ You _ , she wanted to say. Clementine grinded her teeth, scraping until they let out sparks. “No one there cares about me.”

“I don’t care about anyone there.” Between all the lies she’d told that night, there was only one that made Clementine feel so queasy.

“You don’t gotta bullshit to yourself, you know.” Negan said, raising an eyebrow. “Them kicking you out was a big loss on their part. You got shittons of potential, I can see it. You got the… well, the balls to think about killing me right fucking now… I can tell and I fucking respect it. That’s bolder than anything Tripp has thought about doing, I can fucking guarantee it.” He chuckled, loosening up only a bit as the air grew thick again. “All I gotta do is say the word and you can be back there. I’m sure there are some people that care about you.”

That’s as much as she could bear to listen. “We’re done. I’m so fucking sick of you...”

So, there they stood. Clem heard a clock tick in her head, going off louder and louder ‘till it hurt. Negan was laughing again. Pitying her. Neither she liked. She liked him least of all. “No one else is coming. You said it yourself,” the girl told the one and only, looking off to where he couldn’t see. She was done waiting.

Clementine rose to her feet, sending her chair flying back with a kick. The quicker she did it, the easier it would be. All it took was picturing a walker, evil and disgusting, hands tied until its wrists bled. With him, it just wasn’t that hard to. Clem tinkered with her knife while deciding where to stick it.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he stared back at her. “Well, I can see my presence is unwelcome. We don’t have to fight about this, though. Just untie these hands. I’ll find somewhere else. You won’t get anything from killing me, doll, you’ll just be hurting your friends.”

“Just you,” answered Clementine, who didn’t seem to listen too well. She clutched at the knife and raised it over her shoulder, to bury it in Negan’s chest.

While she was raising the knife, he quickly raised his leg, kicking forward as his boot connected with her stomach. 

She felt her back hit the floor, breath leaving her body. Everything that once moved had gone limp. Clementine’s knife spun away, out of her grasp, landing behind Negan’s chair where she’d never reach.  _ Get up. Get up. Get up. _

Her legs didn’t listen, neither did the rest of her, frozen — fighting back barks of coughing.

“You don’t fucking learn, do you?! You didn’t fucking back down at the forest, and you got your nose broken. You didn’t fucking back down at the gate, and Tommy got his head blown off... and now this. Are you ever gonna fucking learn?” He shouted at Clementine, his temper broken.

Clem got to her knees quickly enough. But all she could do was try to crawl back to the living room, to get the rifle hidden under the fireplace.

She could hear him approaching, standing to her side. He lightly pressed his foot onto her lower leg. She stopped. Her hands clawed at the floorboards, but it was no good.  _ No… No! _

Again her cheek grazed the ground, with Negan’s boot to keep it there, leaving dirt marks on her loungewear. He’d been playing captive the whole time… and she’d fallen right for it.

“Now how am I supposed to leave without you stabbing me in the back as I go? I could just kill you… right here. Or I could just knock you unconscious, or maybe you can woman up and let me go?” Negan whispered out. “Heh, I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t knock you out cold like that, darlin’.” 

Another chuckle. Clementine let him talk. For once, she let Negan run his stupid mouth, waiting for a second chance to cut his throat open.

“Well, we gotta sort something out ‘cause—” 

In the distance, a cacophony of noise filled the air. Screams, grunts, and not of the coherent kind. Something banged against the door, trying to tear it down. 

The pressure on her back remained. “Alright, well, fuck… change of plans.” Negan spoke out, his voice changing tune. “Sounds like a few of them… Can we put a pin in this little fucking thing and come back to it later?”

Even hearing it, over and over again, didn’t help make the girl believe; growls, slams, screeches. The door wouldn’t hold. That’s the one thing Clem knew, and the one fact that wouldn’t leave her head, even as she fought to break free. “Just let me go!

Negan sighed. “Fine, but if you kill me, I swear to God I’ll get mad.” Walking back to the knife, he stepped on it, sliding it over. “I ain’t gonna be much use.  _ Someone _ tied me up. And don’t think I’m letting you close with that knife.”

“ _ Like I got time for that _ ,” Clementine mumbled, dragging herself to her feet. “You cut  _ yourself _ loose.”

She ran for her rifle without a second thought. It and its two freaking useless bullets. It struck her then that she’d be better off keeping that part to herself. Clem stuck one of the rounds in and barked her last words. “…Or sit down and let them get you. I don’t care!”

Instead of arguing, he picked up the blade with some effort, and slowly started to cut away at the rope. “I owe you a new rope, this one’s fucked,” he laughed out as he finally got his wrists free. Walking back into the room, he stopped when he locked eyes on her. Backing away quickly, he hid behind a wall. “Didn’t tell me you had a fucking gun.”

The feral banging ensued, getting worse, as loud cracks filled the air. Clementine didn’t wait a moment longer than she had to. When the front door fell to the ground, a runner locked its empty eyes ahead before screeching and rushing towards her.

The girl took only a single step back before squeezing the trigger and firing a shot. The bullet went through the runner’s shoulder, forcing it backwards in a lurch. The time she had to process missing a shot was so brief, Clem didn’t get to do so little as breathe. A rotted arm lunged at her rifle before she could reload, and no matter how hard she pulled, the runner would only respond by doing the same. Slowly inching closer.

Panicked, the girl let go of her weapon, watching it wiggle to the floor right in front of her bare feet, and the infected with it. She knew where to retreat to, ankles grazing the staircase, but overreacting only made her sloppier — easy to grab. Before long her back, too, met the stairs, as the runner pulled her by the ankle.

Her struggling brought the runner to the ground, clawing at her leg incessantly. She could hear it trying to crawl forward, attempting to bridge the distance between itself and her leg.

The sound of a boot crushing bone filled the air, and the tugging on her leg ceased. Something grabbed her shoulder and heaved her up, before a knife was placed back into her hands. Negan’s eyes went up the staircase before looking back to the rest of the runners.

“Upstairs!” shouted Negan, though she hadn’t yet done a good job of standing upright. The crimson half of her jersey dripped over the steps as she rushed to the corridor on the second floor, knife firm in her good hand. The only place left to hold out would be in her room.

Negan ran after her, and the infected weren’t that far behind him. The girl heard more than she saw. Unlike walkers, those things downstairs were ones she’d never outrun.

Down the path that led to her room, past bathroom doors and attic spaces, lay a bookshelf nestled into a corner. Clem only saw something to topple. “Here,” she said. “We make a stand here.” Clementine pushed the furniture clockwise, making a waist-high (to her) barricade between them and the four runners. If  _ that _ failed, the door was right behind. She prayed it wouldn’t.

When the first of the infected charged at them, it toppled like a domino piece straight over the bookshelf. She only had to reach forward and stab the runner through the head.  _ Three left. _

Negan had leaped quickly behind the makeshift barricade. “Good idea,” he said, as the next one came for them, raising his bat to slam down onto its head. “Didn’t know you were such a… little fucking genius.” He laughed it off.

“Shut up and focus!” Another dashed toward them, banging its head against the bookshelf and digging nails on wood to crawl over. Clementine gripped the knife with both hands and raised it over her head. The blade landed on the runner’s back, until Clem pulled it out to stab it again. It only let out a weak groan before falling dead on its side.

The last runner bounded over another infected body, using it to scramble over the bookshelf. At full force, it leaped off, crashing down onto Negan. It balled up its fists and pounded away at him like an uncontrollable ape.

Negan raised his bat with both hands, trying to block some of the impacts that were hailing down on him. Clem only spared him a glance. Vindictiveness, or just pity… her eyes said it all. They said she didn’t care.

Clementine strolled past Negan and the runner on top of him, to get the rifle downstairs.

The pounding continued, until a piercing snap filled the air. Followed by more pounding. This time on flesh. It stopped for only a second more before the screaming started.

“ **YOU… FUCKING… FUCKING… CUNT! YOU FUCKING CUNT, YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID? YOU FUCKING BROKE HER! SHE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME AND YOU FUCKING BROKE HER!** ”

Her rifle was exactly where she’d left it, stuck under a bleeding corpse. She might’ve just left it there any other night.

The screaming was enough to persuade her.

One heavy push and it was right in her grasp, intact and sturdy as ever. Only...  _ Where the fuck’s the other bullet? _ So she wondered. Clem had the hunch straight away, that it might’ve rolled somewhere when the runner caught her. But now when she needed it, her last round was nowhere in sight, no matter how hard she looked.

“ **YOU FUCKING BROKE LUCILLE! FOR WHAT?** ”

The pounding stopped. This time, for good. When Clementine heard the steps echoing upstairs, she clung to the biker jacket by the coat hanger. Not that it would do much besides the boost of confidence.

If Negan came for her next, she wanted to be ready.

He did come. Carrying two pieces of a broken bat. And enough bruises and blood to look even more hideous. Clementine went as far as to aim the gun at him, holding it steady even with her shaky pair of hands. He marched across the ranch, making faint eye contact with her. And he did... nothing. He just stared at her. Then he walked toward the door. He really did just walk past her. Wasn’t he mad...?

She regretted the question even before it left her. But it did, as instinctive as the breath steaming from her mouth. “ _ You alright? _ ”

He stopped in his tracks. Turning around, he marched back towards her. As soon as he got close enough, he slapped her across the cheek.

It was a blank, at first. When her head snapped to the side and the sting on her face blazed like fire. Clem had been backing away, before. She wouldn’t get to take many more steps.

She felt a knee to her gut. The rifle flew out of her hands as she gagged in her own spit, pain throbbing in her guts. Negan wouldn’t let her fall. Not even when she was so weak at the knees. Clementine’s hair was pulled from the back of her head, and his hand cracked across her face one last time. For that moment, she was relieved to see the floor. Until another kick made her convulse in pain.

The girl covered her face with her arms, bracing herself for more. She didn’t expect it to stop. Clementine couldn’t do anything to make it so.

“That’s for Lucille,” he said, voice as cold as ice. “I don’t want to see you ever again.” Footsteps grew ever more distant, before disappearing altogether. A car turned, then roared to life.

_ You’re lucky _ , Clem told herself as she barked coughs at the floor.

He should have killed her. If it was anyone else,  **_anyone else_ ** , as bad as he was, she would have been lying in a pool of her own blood. And with nothing to show for it. Again, Clem remembered how small and weak she was. She remembered the way Lee slaughtered the people who hurt her, what Ellie did to the man who took her finger… and Clementine realized that she was nothing like them. That she’d never get to have revenge for Tommy, or Jenny. That she was just a scared girl.

And so she was alone again.

—

It was like a night that had no end to it. It may as well have had none. When Clem dragged the last corpse out of her home, the strain in her shoulders ached nearly as bad as her bruised stomach did. The jacket hadn’t done a thing to bear the blow.

The girl blocked the space where the front door used to be with desks and closets packed with memorabilia. Practical, though it looked no good. Like a house that had crumbled years ago. No one would ever come in through there again. Her cold dinner seemed to taste twice as cold, not to say it tasted like nothing at all. Which it did. Like always.

In her mind, every sound she heard was Negan’s. Always him, coming back to finish her. She laughed at her own stupidity: when he let her tie him up, just to make her feel in control; when he let her think, for just that little while, that she was stronger than he was. That she could kill someone like him.

Then she remembered the look on his face. The red smeared across his face and bloodshot eyes. The way they quivered, before his hand came down on her. Clementine held the spoon between her fingers and didn’t eat another drop of the stew.

When she finally came to, the walls around her felt so many inches closer. The silence so much harder to bear. And all she wanted was for Mom and Dad to be there with her.


	7. Tattoo

_11:38 AM - September 25, 2026_

Nearly two months slipped by without Ellie ever noticing. Infirmary work wasn’t like what she was used to, but it turned out to be a nice change of pace. Maybe she just liked keeping herself busy, though it wasn’t like there were a lot of injuries and illnesses in Jackson. Just enough to leave her feeling sane on the longer days. Her weekly hangouts with Kat were what made it all bearable, if she were being honest. She hated not being able to hang out with her in public, but they made do with Kat’s house. Hanging out, smoking weed, getting drunk, Ellie practicing her guitar, and even a little bit of singing… it almost reminded her of how it was before. Just with a different person.

And as the weather began to turn cooler, windier, and Lee finally healed enough to go out ‘looking’ for Clementine, Ellie found herself heading to Kat’s place once more. Hearing about Lee’s expedition had made the girl in question take up more of her mind than she’d allowed in recent weeks, and Ellie’s arm looked a lot better than it did, so it was time for the tattoo. It’d make a good distraction.

Knocking on Kat’s door, Ellie waited for it to open, revealing the redhead after a minute had gone by. She put on a smile, shifting in her spot on the porch. “Can I come in?”

“Sure thing, E. Make yourself at home. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Kat said, her Scottish accent slipping to welcome a horrid attempt at a proper British one.

Ellie headed inside, letting Kat close the door behind them. There was the faint smell of weed in the air, although that hardly surprised her. Honestly, she was jealous that Kat had some sorta deal to get the stuff. Not that Ellie tried to smoke that often, but when you needed to wind down… Still, it was becoming an all-too-familiar smell, and Ellie liked it, to a degree.

Turning to face her friend, albeit a bit sheepishly, Ellie cleared her throat. “Arm’s healed up about as much as I think it will,” she said, revealing her arm from underneath her hoodie sleeve. “If you’re, um, up to it. I think I’m ready for that tattoo.” She smiled, nervousness causing her to shake a little.

She knew tattoos weren’t exactly a walk in the park. They took concentration to make, and they hurt like hell. But the end result would be worth it, right?

The girl straightened up immediately, a smile slipping onto her features as she practically swooped in to place her arm around their shoulder and lead her deeper into her home. “You’ve come at a perfect time, actually. I just finished setting up to give myself another one.” She stopped in front of a closed door, releasing Ellie from her hold to open it and walk in.

Immediately, Ellie could see collections of all the things that made Kat… well, Kat. CDs thrown about; a radio to play them, which looked like it was barely holding together at that; clothes folded and left in the corner; a hammock hanging from the ceiling rather than a bed. Did Kat really sleep in a hammock...? Guess she really did have it bad here, besides the obvious run-downness of her cabin.

“Welcome to my room, please take a seat wherever, as long as it’s close enough to my machine.” She moved across the room, picking up her pen and snagging one of her little sheets to transfer it.

Ellie did as she was told, plopping down in a seat as she took in the room around her. She slipped her hoodie off, revealing her black tank top underneath. No sleeves to get in the way.

As she watched Kat get ready, she mentally prepared herself. Tattoos gotta hurt, right? Like, how bad...? _Well, probably not as bad as burning your arm with acid_ , she mused. She’d survive.

Smiling to herself, if only to numb her nerves, she waited silently for Kat to get ready.

“Alright, this should be... simple. Might take a while,” Kat mumbled, mainly to herself as she moved over and sat next to Ellie. She carefully moved her arm closer, looking down at the rough skin of where she wanted the ink. “Alright, I’m going to be completely honest with you here. No bullshitting.” As Kat spoke, she placed the sticky sheet to their skin, carefully rubbing it back and forth to stain her canvas.

“This is going to hurt like hell, but it’ll pay off in the end. And I promise, I have done this before.” She smiled, peeling back the paper she left on their arm to reveal a blue stained outline of what the tattoo will be. She held up Ellie’s arm, letting her see what it would be.

“Are you ready?”

The closer they got to doing this, the faster her heartbeat. Why was she getting so worked up about this? She’d endured so much worse in the past. Yet, seeing the needles had been enough to strike fear into her. To Kat’s question, she nodded solemnly, following it up with a quiet, “Yeah.”

_Alright, Ellie, pull it together. You can do this_ _…_

The ginger girl lowered their arm onto her lap with a nod, her fingers tightening around her pen as she moved it to make contact with the skin. She went to work, following her outline as she hummed to herself, being sure to somewhat hold the girl’s arm still with her other.

She moved her hand ever so carefully where it currently held her Ellie’s arm, just to be able to flex her pinky around the girl’s thumb. “I can’t exactly hold your hand and make this hurt less.”

 _Ow. Ow. Fucking ow._ Ellie winced, trying to hold it together when Kat commented on her squeamishness. Taking in a breath, she calmed herself. The pain was worth it.

“I know,” she said, seemingly more calm than before.

Kat nodded, continuing her work as gently as she could manage.

As she finished the final details, she pulled the pen away, clicking it off as she swiped a wet piece of cloth across it to clean up any final stray ink. “Alright. That should do it. What do you think?”

Sitting through that was an ordeal in itself. Every second that needle was touching her arm felt like complete agony, especially when it drew closer to the burn, but she endured through it all with clenched teeth and minimal noise. When it was done, all Ellie could do was sigh with relief, looking towards the Scot’s handiwork with a bittersweet smile.

“It’s perfect,” she said. It wasn’t done, of course. This was just the first of _many_ sessions. But… it truly _did_ look badass. Twisting her arm to get the full picture, she glanced towards her friend next to her, wrapping her untattooed arm around the girl’s neck. Kat had to lean down a bit to keep from choking, but she seemed to welcome the attempt at an embrace with a smile. “Thank you so much. You’re awesome.”

Now, she could go anywhere without feeling like her past was dragging her down. No hiding. She was just Ellie, now, a girl with plenty of issues of her own to deal with and the will to keep pushing through them.

Such a weight had never been lifted off her shoulders in such a way before, it was almost overwhelming.

“Alright, Sappy. It isn’t that big a deal. It’s just ink.” Kat rolled her eyes, slipping from Ellie’s grip to remove the sleeve that was covering her right shoulder. It was bare despite the sea of tattoos that trailed up her arm.

“I was personally about to add some more to myself as well. A human canvas is oddly the most fun to play with. It’s also not as hard as it looks. Did you want to try, Short Stuff?” As Kat asked, she held out her pen, an eyebrow raised almost in a challenging fashion. “If it sucks ass I can always fix it later, but then again, I seriously doubt it will.”

Ellie gawked at that, unsure if she really wanted to try. Sure, she’d dabbled in drawing some stuff here and there, **_ages ago_** , but doing something permanent on someone’s body? That was the definition of fear right there. Still, she already had an idea of what she’d make, so why not?

“Okay,” she said softly, pushing herself out of the chair, then indicated for Kat to sit in it with a lilted British accent. “Take a seat, m’lady. We shall stain your skin with ink.” _Stupid. Fucking stupid._

Taking Kat’s spot, she tried to familiarize herself with the tools she’d used. She just hoped she wouldn’t hurt Kat in the process.

As Kat settled in the chair, she said, “Alright, it’s super simple. Colors are in that container. You turn it on, run it for a second in that rag to bleed previous colors out, and don’t press super hard into my skin please. Just enough to break the surface a little, okay? I’ll tell you if you go too deep.” She gave her a confident thumbs up, one that gave Ellie a burst of confidence she truly didn’t deserve for her lack of skill.

With a fresh needle, Ellie set to work. What she had in mind was super simple, but it worked perfectly. Taking each stroke carefully, diligently, it took only a few minutes for her to finish.

All in black, her feline creation filled the spot Kat had left open for her, simple in design but pretty cute. She glanced towards her friend as she set down the needle, a small smile on her face as she awaited the girl’s approval.

Kat’s eyes practically lit up, smile wide and dopey. “Oh my fuck, it’s a mini me.” She whispered as if raising her voice would scare the tattoo away.

She admired the small cat for a few moments before turning back to Ellie, the biggest grin on her face. “Now we’ve both left our mark on one another. The bond is set, can’t drop me now.”

“You’re so tall, I probably couldn’t lift you anyway,” Ellie joked, giving the girl a toothy grin in response.

Relaxing onto Kat’s couch, she took one last look at her new tattoo, savoring how cool it looked, before glancing back at her friend as she entered the living room.

This was a bond she didn’t mind having.


	8. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter releases are gonna be on a weekly basis for the foreseeable future (only hitch will be when we get to Chapter 27, since there's still a scene in progress for that one, but I'm hoping to have it finished before we get there), so keep an eye out. Haven't decided if it's gonna stay on Fridays or go to Saturdays, but it'll definitely be on one of those two :)

_3:34 PM — October 1, 2026_

The sun rested on her shoulders in a way Clementine didn’t like. It was bad enough dealing with the weight on her back, literal or otherwise.

A stag smoothed along a mossy patch of grass, tied to the frame of a small girl — wounds on its leg, and a larger one in its neck. Though it didn’t skid quite fast enough, unless you put all your back into it; and _that_ she did. Clem’s boots were past the point of being just old and worn, ripples opening in the leather to show off her polka dot socks. The soles would be next, and she was anything but looking forward to it. She’d often stare at her legs, watching them rot. Her eyes happened to stand out when the rest of her face was so full of blood, guts and dirt. 

That was the worst part, maybe. With all that carcass on you, stuffed into your travel bag and tied to your waist, you’d be remiss to smell human on top of it. She felt disgusting. They wouldn’t let her in anyway, so why bother? A whole trip just to be shot down... and yet there she was, starving in all her non-glory. When Clem saw the gates, her pace slowed instinctively, as if her body finally started to feel the journey there. She had to bite her lip and bear the brunt. 

The steps ended when she thought she couldn’t take another. Clementine shot her gaze upward and squinted her eyes. It took pulling her hat down a notch to see past the sunlight. 

“Hey, Lydia.”

“Clementine…” Lydia greeted with a glum look on her face. She’d forgotten the sound of her voice, but somehow the bitter in it was familiar.

Good as it was to see a friend, Clem didn’t waste Lydia’s time with any small talk. “Is Andrea there?” The girl asked, flashing eyes so sweet they’d twist anyone’s heart — or make them want to puke. “Can I come in?”

“Andrea can’t make that call,” came Lydia’s reply, bitterness in her tone. “It’s up to Tripp, and I think you and I both know what _he’s_ gonna say…”

Clementine seemed undeterred. “What about you?” She asked, hiding a smile from under her cap. Hadn’t been her plan to sneak in, no, but it wasn’t really _sneaking in,_ sneaking in. More like... directing you to reception. “Look, you guys are like the _only_ community around. I just wanna sell some stuff. No biggie.” Just how much of a biggie was it? She sure as hell wasn’t leaving until someone indulged her.

“Like I said, _I know_ what Tripp is gonna say.” Lydiashrugged, her voice straightforward and by the book. She fell silent again, shooting a small glance over her shoulder before directing it back towards Clementine below. No smile, no nothing. “So that’s why we’re not gonna ask him.”

She disappeared from view, and a few seconds later, the gate opened, and Lydia stepped aside so Clementine could make her way through.

“Tripp can take his bullshit rules and shove them straight up his ass. _That’s_ what I’d say.” Lydia remarked. “If anyone asks who let you in, you can tell them it was me.”

Clementine felt something rise in her chest, and for that short little while she thought it may’ve been relief. Unfamiliar, like the taste of a warm cup of coffee. The girl took only a few slow steps forward, weighed down by the dead stag she was lugging around… just enough so she could pull Lydia in for a hug. 

“I won’t tell.”

Lydia froze on the spot, though she eventually tried to return it the best she could, awkwardly patting Clementine’s back. Didn’t take eyes to know that her nose was scrunching up at the smell.

“If you get time… come by mine later.” Lydia offered, voice softer than before. “I wanna talk. I-If you want.”

The biggest surprise was not getting a punch to the face again. Everything else was just a plus. “Let’s see if I won’t get kicked out first,” Clementine said through a whittling breath — the type of answer some stone-cold loner would give, and not her. Besides not knowing what type of crap getting kicked out _two times_ would entail, the thing that terrified her the most was sticking around longer than she had to. Lydia’s place included, even though she’d take her up on it in, like, a heartbeat. Clementine made sure her things were strapped and firm, and went on her way.

There was no kind way of saying she stood out. It was like everyone there could smell her coming, and not in any joking kind of way. Kids scrunched their noses as she walked past the park and she stuck her tongue out right back at ‘em.

Clem stopped by the church — or more aptly named, her least favorite place in the world. If only those had more gospel singers and less dickhead tyrants. The girl walked right in, stag carcass and all, to whatever welcome they meant to dish out. Honestly, if they fired first they’d be sparing her.

* * *

It was almost time for another Saviors visit. Tripp had been spending the last few days getting everything together, inventorying their shelves and ensuring they had enough to appease their _benign overlords_. Things were finally starting to make sense around here, so he took a moment to rest, slumping into his chair. He hated this part of the job, but struggled through it all the same. ‘You made your bed, now lay in it,’ Andrea would say. Could be worse, if she was still in charge.

He smelled Clementine far before she ever showed up at his open door, carrying a deer carcass wrapped over her. He raised an eyebrow, at first taken aback that the girl was even here at all. Of course, he knew that she resided in the mountains — anyone with a sufficient amount of supply runners heard enough to keep up-to-date — but she must’ve been desperate to come back here.

“Killed that deer on your own?” He asked, looking her over. Wasn’t much out of the ordinary these days. She was covered in blood and dirt, and if it’d been any other survivor, he might’ve been impressed. Surviving out there wasn’t an easy task. The girl gave him a dirty look, but it hardly phased him. “I s’pose you did,” he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. 

He wasn’t going to question how she’d gotten into Jackson in the first place, he already knew, so he indicated for Clementine to head down the hallway a bit more. 

“Put it down in the stockroom. We’ll talk trade, since I know that’s what you’re here for.”

_Oughta play along, see what she wants. Quicker I get her out of here, the better._

She did as she was asked, returning to the hallway empty-handed, barring cold, fixed stares. “I want a horse,” she said, matter-of-fact.

He settled back into his chair, giving her another once-over as she spoke up. His jaw tightened, frowning. “I can’t spare one,” he said evenly, grinding his teeth. “They’re needed for supply runs.” _And you’ll need a lot more than_ **_that_ ** _to get me to hand one over._ “Unless you’re plannin’ on using it to bring back more, then it isn’t worth the trade.”

Her brows scrunched together, leaning closer to Tripp as she slammed her hands onto his desk. “Can’t, or won’t?”

Tripp simply let the girl vent, as calm as he was prior to her little outburst. Not like it was difficult to predict her response in the first place. His voice held venom within, shaking his head in disapproval. “I’m not Tommy, Clementine. Having a fit won’t get you anywhere with me. If you want a horse, you’ll have to earn it. The deer’s a step in the right direction, but I need more. Hell, I’ll _loan_ you one if you go out there and find _somethin’_ worth giving to that asshole you pissed off.” 

Without more, this next offering would be light enough to put them in deep shit. Jackson County was running dry, and if Clementine wanted a horse that badly, she probably wasn’t staying in the area. Might as well put her to use. 

“Do that, and you can keep the horse.”

She looked about ready to jump over that desk. Taking a step back, she said, “So… I’m supposed to hand over my only food until you feel like paying me for it…” Enough venom to match his own. “When’s that gonna be?” The girl crossed her arms expectantly, only for her eyes to go round. “What am _I_ supposed to eat?!”

 _You’re really trading all of your food for a horse? Kid must be desperate._ “Calm down, you’re not leaving here empty-handed,” Tripp said, holding a hand up to try and quiet her. 

They may not see eye-to-eye — for obvious reasons — but he wasn’t going to cheat her.

“I’ve been preparing an expedition into Idaho for some more supplies. You can go along, help out. Come back with something, and like I said, you can have the horse.” _That, and I’m not just letting you leave with a horse without someone to make sure you bring it back._ “Carl’s leadin’ it. I’m sure you two’ll get along. Always have. He was supposed to go with one of our resident Saviors, but seein’ that it’s a long trip, I’m sure they could use the extra help. You’ll have all the food and water you’d need for the trip.

“Or you could take your deer back and head home horseless. Your choice.” _C’mon, kid, I’m_ **_trying_ ** _to help you._

Flushed with anger before, her face had gone pale as snow. Clearly, the idea of staying in Jackson was out of the question. Her mouth moved, but no words ever came. A gear turned in her head, visible even to Tripp, until the silence was replaced with bitterness once more.

“I get a room for the night. And I don’t leave without supplies for the way back.”

While housing Clementine for the night sounded like a recipe for disaster, given Jackson’s opinion on her, Tripp found no reason not to accept her terms. The girl looked exhausted, after all, and Tripp wasn’t _completely_ heartless. He nodded to her request, sitting back in his chair. “Meet me here in the morning. We’ll talk out the plan with the rest of your group.

“Don’t cause any trouble.” It didn’t need saying, but he wanted to make doubly sure this deal wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

* * *

Daylight was running short, and so was the time to go through with it. Clementine could’ve asked for her own room, if there were any to spare, but the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Frankly, she dreaded the thought of sleeping alone that night. At least over at Lydia’s place, she could crash without making any more fuss. And without feeling watched.

“Lyd,” Clementine yelled softly, knocking at her door. She wasn’t sure how to go about it exactly, but Clem had practiced the words. When the door opened, she’d ask, just short of begging… “Offer still up?”

“No, _you stink_ . Go away.” She wasn’t in the mood for it, if it even _was_ a joke. Stuff like that was just humiliating. “Seriously though, didn’t they let you have a shower yet?”

“No…” Clementine frowned and looked for what else to say, coming up empty.

It was that silence that broke her. Suddenly, Clem felt no footing at all, holding tightly onto one wrist while her legs went wobbly and jelly-like. It was a stammer like no other that sealed it, clumsy as her posture. “Could you — Can I use yours…?”

“Oh. Uhm—” The girl’s mouth hung a bit, looking over her shoulder towards the bathroom. “Y—Yeah, okay… sure.” She begrudgingly agreed, meeting Clem’s somber gaze as she nudged her head in the direction of another door. “Bathroom’s just through there.”

Clementine had to smile, though it was fragile and injured. Not wanting to show. “Thank you so much,” said the girl, who could hardly help the rush in which she followed her friend in, hugging herself.

“I have some clothes and stuff that might fit… looks like you need it.” Lydia offered, lowering her voice. Her eyes glazed over Clementine’s crappy clothes.

Lydia’s place was actually better than Clem remembered, despite not changing at all. Tight-spaced, but warm. So warm. The hat went first, laid down on a table, then her jacket, slipping off her shoulders for the first time that day. Under, she had a mucked up gray hoodie, and under that still, a baseball jersey. Clementine couldn’t wait to wear something that smelled better. “Won’t take long, okay?” Clem assured her, and left.

She flinched as the water fell on her shoulders, carrying mud all the way to her toes. Her hair had withered and turned to threads of straw, but now it fell over her eyes in soft curls, grateful for being washed. She was grateful, too.

Clementine left Lydia’s bathroom with a jumper dress much too big for her, hiding her top and shorts as well as her wrists. Her hair, then, expanded like a blowfish, reaching past her back and covering her ears. A different person, if not for the awkward steps and the stiffness in her voice.

“Can I stay the night?” Clementine knew she was pushing when she said it, though she felt ready to do anything for a spot of her own. Even if it meant sleeping on the carpet. “Please.”

Lydia, who had found a spot near a portable heater in the room’s corner, thought about it for a moment. Long enough for Clem to wonder if she’d really go through with it. “Alright,” she finally said, pursing her lips. “Dunno where you’re gonna sleep yet, but I’ll make something work… I guess.”

Well, that was good. One big weight off her shoulders. “Alright,” she sighed, hand on her hip. “So, what do you do, usually?” Clementine broke the silence. “Like when you’re on your own.” She walked right up to Lydia and flashed her a smile. “Let’s do something fun.”

The offer seemed to catch her off guard. “Just… hang around,” she answered Clem’s question as quickly as possible, eyes falling to the heater once more. “Had a PlayStation, but it’s gone now.”

“I know other games,” she said coyly. Clementine sat on Lydia’s carpet with her legs crossed and heart on her sleeve. “How about an easy one? Never have I ever. You’ve done that before.” Clem wasn’t sure she had, actually. Just felt like a _thing_ everyone did once.

“Never ha-… _what_?” Lydia’s baffled voice hardly dissuaded her. 

“You have to say a thing you’ve _never_ done before... but if the other girl has, that’s how you win.” Clementine explained. “Let’s say... the loser has to dress up, and the winner gets to pick an outfit. No saying no.”

“This sounds kinda stupid.” Lydia’s eyebrows furrowed even tighter together, but it seemed like she’d won her over. “You go first, then.” She sighed out, sending a worried glance towards Clementine.

Lydia didn’t seem all too excited, no surprise. Everyone had their first. “No problem.” _I should probably go easy on her._ “Alright, listen up. Never have I ever eaten a bug!” Clementine exclaimed, trying to force out enthusiasm like you passed a cold: if not by accident, through sheer force of will.

Didn’t take long for Lydia’s demeanor to change. “This game is shit. I already lost…”

“W—What?” How could she _not_ be stunned, what the _hell_? “You ate a bug?” Clem’s mouth couldn’t but quiver at the thought. Though maybe some other stuff was quivering too, like the lunch in her stomach. “That’s okay. We’re just practicing...” said Clementine, hands raised, with the smile turned anxious of hers. “Do me. C’mon.”

“Nuh-uh, that was embarrassing for me, no way you’re getting away with that.” Clem couldn’t decide if Lydia was angry or being mischievous. “So fine, I’ll _do you_ one better, by changing the rules, since you set me up.” She fought the smile perking up on her face, and continued in a serious tone. “I get to ask _you_ three questions. If I think the answers are truthful and worthy enough, because I lost, I’ll let you do that weird dress up punishment thing on me. Understood?”

“Under...stood,” Clementine pouted, looking toward Lydia with peering eyes. What was up with her? Clem had a half mind to say no, but… “Just ask.”

Lydia took in a deep breath. “The night we first met, before the fight… what was your first impression of me? Like, what did you _really_ think?” She traced a finger in circles along the carpet, keeping her gaze towards the floor as she asked.

It wasn’t so warm in Lydia’s apartment anymore, she thought. It was freezing. Clem’s blood stopped running and made her face look powdery white. Gone was her chirpy voice, all the fake smiles and the fake lighthearted attitude. She was Clementine again. Sapped of the talent to act like a girl. _What do you mean?_

Clementine was scared of telling the truth, most of all. Would Lydia kick her out if she did? Would it be worse if she lied? Clem waited until the last possible second to answer, and felt she could’ve spent a thousand moments more. Her night of fun had just been fed to the dogs. “I thought... you were kinda bitchy, just ‘cause Tommy gave Joel and the rest of us special treatment.” The girl had to force the words out, teeth urging to grind each other. “And — I was in a bad mood, alright? So, I was bitchy too.” She felt both sorry and frustrated. Looking at Lydia got a little harder, after.

“But I wanted to be friends. I still want to.”

Lydia scrunched up her lips, silently nodding with a small shrug. “Fair enough. Question two…” She adjusted her posture before meeting Clem’s gaze again. 

“So, you came to stay here tonight…” A brief pause followed, the crackling of that small heater being the only source of noise for a moment. “Instead of staying at your friend… the teacher’s place… or Ellie’s? What the fuck happened between you all?”

Clementine didn’t like that question. It was personal, for one, and it hurt to dwell on it besides. She wrung her fingers together, chewing on her lip. “I don’t want them to worry about me. Rather they not even know I’m here.” She could judge her all she wanted, Clem didn’t expect Lydia to understand. Things were messy and downright awful. “Plus, I...

“I want to look for my Mom and Dad. Mr. Everett thinks they’re dead, so he’d say I’m just wasting my time.” It was back again, the contempt in her voice. As if she could help it. Her nails dug further into her shorts the longer Clementine thought about it. _And him._ “So, yeah.”

“Okay.” Probably not the answer she was looking for. “I’ve seen him in class, he hasn’t been looking too good… just so you know.” Thankfully, it didn’t seem that Lydia would let that one linger for too long. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Ellie, though. She’s been enjoying herself since Negan’s people moved in, spending heaps of time with her new _Savior_ friend.” The frown lines reappeared. “Honestly, Clem, I didn’t know her like you did. But I thought she was better than… _that_.”

It sounded like bad gossip. The made up kind, only meant to hurt you. Ellie making friends with a **_Savior_ **...? After what they did to her? To Tommy?

To Jenny.

“Is that true...?” Her throat felt mended shut. Clementine rubbed her eyes with one sleeve, looking dead-straight at the floorboards. _She... She isn’t even upset about us?_

“Yes. _It is._ ” Lydia affirmed, voice unwavering.

“Are they… close friends?” Clem wanted to ask if they were dating, straight out. She had hang-ups spilling all over Lydia’s apartment. A pretty sight.

“Sure looks like it.”

She had to think it wasn’t. That her best friend would never do that.

But Clementine remembered the last thing Ellie said to her, and Clementine wasn’t in the habit of playing dumb. It seemed so unthinkable back then. When they took turns making each other breakfast, or made jests of tying the knot. She’d burned those bridges a long time ago, when she left.

It didn’t mean she would forgive her.

“What’s your last question...?” Clem asked, monotone and sapped of life. Forcing Lydia to talk about anything other than such a back-stabber. _Is that why you weren’t there when they voted me out?_

“Um…” Lydia rocked back and forth, holding her knees close. “Sometimes, I don’t get how you’re so nice.” She paused, her eyes anywhere but towards Clementine. “ _To me._ I mean, I’m not gonna pretend that I didn’t treat you like… dog shit.” She frowned at the heater. “For _so_ long. Why would you want to be friends with a… s—sadistic fuck like me?”

“I don’t know,” Clem told her, as honest as she could be. Up ‘till now, she hadn’t had that luxury: the time to reflect on things. Always going where her heart led and doing what her gut told her. Even then, something in that rang untrue. She did know, sort of.

Clementine brushed her long hair aside, twirling fingers between the curls. Struggling to say simple things, as she always had. “I think that... when you’re mean like that, it’s just pretend,” Clementine giggled. “Say what you want, you’ve only been nice to me since I got here. 

“And… I guess you’re my only friend. Right now.” It stung a little just saying it. Wasn’t that sad. “Friends support each other.”

“It’s been a while since… I — made a friend.” Lydia dropped her knees, crossing her legs. A look in her eye that Clem couldn’t quite figure out. “Just warning you. I’m not the best at it, so… I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

That… was a pretty funny way to reciprocate. Lydia _was_ pretty funny. “You kiddin’? Know it too well,” she overstated, pointing to one eye with a smile on her lips. “Seriously. I’m your friend. I’m happy to _be_ your friend. So don’t sweat it.” Clementine gave it some thought, staring at the ceiling while her head bobbed from side to side. Her eyes darted back to Lydia. “Just don’t call me names again.”

Lydia visibly relaxed. “I won’t…” she reassured, a semblance of guilt in her eyes. “You answered my questions,” she continued after a moment. “So, I’m keeping my end of the bargain. Welp. Fuck me up.”

All that doughy stuff aside, _this_ is what Clem had really been looking for. The girl stood up at Lydia’s signal, stomping her bare feet in excitement. “Awesome.”

 _Clothes, clothes, clothes._ The first thing to do was find some. Not the ones Lyd kept in her closet, not those. Clementine was looking for the real finds: junk from the old owners. Where the apartment was at its most untouched, Clem dug tirelessly, peeking through every corner. There wasn’t much, for sure, but when Clem was so close to giving up... “Lucky day!” She roared from across the room. 

Out came Clementine with two items of folded clothing in her arms. On the left, Clem held a dark blazer and a bowtie, typical gala type thing, and as boyish as could be… but instead of bringing slacks, she had a pair of shorts. At least the colors matched.

On the right, the gaudiest prom dress, red as wine. This one was _actually_ pretty, even though it showed a little much. She could almost picture the girl who got it, saving it for a special night that hadn’t come. It sort of hurt to see a plastic around it. “Take your pick. To make it fair, whatever you choose, I gotta wear the other one.

“C’mon. Ready for the ball or what?”

Lydia’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. “Just — one second.” The girl darted past Clem, digging through the drawers Clem had. She pulled out a white collared shirt and held it out. “Hey, I pick the boy outfit. But I’d rather wear _this_ shirt under it, more my style. _Okay_?”

“Makes no difference to me, Blonde.” Clementine shrugged. Would’ve been a big lie saying she saw her choice coming, honestly. Did the dress look _that_ excessive? Her lips pursed just a tad bit more, looking at it with her round, curious eyes. It didn’t last long, since the nervousness made her chuckle. “I’ll go change.”

It slipped right onto her shoulders, almost like it’d been sown just for her. You could tell it wasn’t, though. For one, the owner was a _lot_ taller. The skirt brushed past her knees, though it probably shouldn’t have been. Not to mention it kinda felt a little tight around the waist. 

As… freaking silly as she looked, deal was a deal and she wasn’t one for backing out. _I look cute,_ Clem decided. 

She left the bathroom as confident as she could, upright and beaming — if you could forgive the blushing. “How do I look?” The question drained all of that courage away, sudden as it left her. Clementine held her own hand, tying one set of fingers over the other… pressing both lips together.

“ _Hmmm_ .” Lydia placed her index finger and thumb to her cheeks, squinting with a cheeky smile. “Elegant,” she finally decided. “Throw some earrings on, and you _might_ even look better in it than I would.”

Was that the first time Lydia complimented her? Might’ve even said she looked pretty, if you squinted a bit. Clementine showed off her teeth again and crossed her arms, covering herself. “Y’know what? Thanks.” In her own clumsy way, Clem walked up to Lydia like she was parading on a catwalk, spinning around once, and falling to a giggle. _Elegant, really? It’s all downhill from here, isn’t it?_

“Earrings,” Clem echoed, amused if nothing else. “Maybe I’ll take you up on it, if you think I look so good.” She was poking at the beehive with that one, flashing daring smiles. It was like that stupid _rich kid_ dress was giving her some confidence, some way or other. Who knew.

Lydia laughed, obviously resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Okay, _Princess Clementine_ , let’s not get carried away. Be right back.”

She shut the door behind her, and Clementine waited for her to eventually reemerge, walking in the oddest of postures with her arms outstretched.

“This is so retarded…” Lydia muttered, giving Clem one of _those_ stares. “Can I take back everything I said before? I hate you again.”

Despite covering her mouth, Clementine laughed like a wild hyena. “You look like a little boy,” she uttered through her fingers, and the thought only made her laugh all the louder. That night was totally worth it. _Maybe_ it was as close as she was _ever_ coming to getting back at Lydia. Had only Clem not worked so hard to make friends… she might’ve come up with some more colorful taunts. “I’m sorry,” Clementine instead apologized, even if through a mocking smile. “Don’t be mad.”

Seeing as it was important to avoid being killed in her sleep, Clem tried to come up with a compliment to go along with the teasing. She scratched her nose and stared at nowhere in particular, forcing out words. “I think — I think you look attractive. In that.”

Still smiling, Lydia rolled her eyes. “Woah, what was that?” The blonde swayed her weight onto one foot, crossing her arms as she tossed Clementine a quirky glance. “Is the Princess trying to seduce me?”

She’d caught her like a little fish. And, gosh, Clementine looked like one, fighting to breathe above the surface. “No, I’m not!” She looked so pale, the red in her face turned pink. The dress, at least, was matching something other than her socks. “Take it back,” the girl said, squinting back at Lydia. For once, she was unamused.

Lydia’s eyes widened, then shrunk. “Okay then…” she said, uncrossing her arms. Her entire posture shrunk with the disappearance of the girl's playful aura.

Clem was unconvinced. She shrunk, too. Folding one arm, brows knitted. “Okay ‘ _you’ll take it back_ ’ or okay ‘ _I’m a liar?_ ’” 

She knew how dumb it was, to keep it a secret. _Especially now._ But like a bunch other things, Clementine was too nervous to admit that she liked girls the same as boys. Lydia wouldn’t get it — or she’d call her freaky. Clem was sure of it.

“Take it how you want.” For a split second, the old Lydia was back, tone spitting venom again. She paused, wincing at her own words, before looking towards the ground. “I mucked up the game… didn’t I?” She asked, guilt in her voice.

Funny to hear Lydia say it, because Clementine felt the same way. “No, no, that’s—” …All she could get out before the air in the room caught her in a chokehold.

Why did she have to say it like that? Of all the _thousands_ of words in the dictionary — _attractive?_ How could Lydia _not_ think she was freaky? “Sorry,” Clem apologized, nervous and scared out of her mind. Maybe she could shrug it off, but how could she? It was so embarrassing. She’d just admitted to _it_. Out loud. 

“I...”

_I wasn’t trying to seduce you!_

_No! I don’t like you! Not like that. Just that… I mean, if you wanted to…_

_I just meant that you’re really pretty. That’s totally normal. Lots of girls are pretty._

_I think boys are pretty too._

“…had more fun today than I had in months. Don’t worry.” Clementine smiled confidently, shrugging it off.

“Well, I’ll admit that you _can_ be more fun than ya typical, unbearably snobby, every day Jackson kid.” Lydia said, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. “So, you’re forgiven.” She smiled, finally bringing herself to look at Clem in the eye again. There was a small pause, before she remembered what they were wearing, and for how long. “I think I wanna get out of these clothes now, we’ve suffered enough.”

Clementine couldn’t agree more.

* * *

“You didn’t tell me you had a fire pit back here,” Ellie beamed the instant Kat had taken her into her backyard. “I would’ve brought marshmallows a _long_ fucking time ago!”

It was another one of those nights. The ones where she’d slip out of the house after the cover of dark to hang out with her friend again, where no one could see them. No Lydias… just some weed and a heaping sum of carefree spirit. The stuff that made hanging out with Kat a need these days, when life grew grim and fun became a thing of the past.

As soon as Ellie heard about Kat’s fire pit, though, she knew exactly what to do. A pack of beer (stolen from the fridge at home), a bag of marshmallows, and a guitar later, they were set to have a great, if chilly, night.

And, with one look towards the sky, she knew that no other night would be like this. “And, _damn_ , look at all the stars you can see out here. It’s always so bright by my place.”

“Hey, I can’t give away _all_ my secrets at once,” Kat laughed, following behind Ellie as she got a feel for the place. The firepit was nestled in the center of a rather small yard, surrounded by a decaying fence, but Ellie would’ve taken anything to get away from her own place.

Kat took care of placing the firewood and setting it ablaze with some matches. Took a while, but eventually the fire crackled and burned, the air around it finally feeling warm, enough for Kat to abandon her jacket and leave it tied around her waist.

Seats surrounded the fire, some looked comfortable… and some… not so much. Kat had placed herself on the ground, close enough to the fire that she could probably feel wisps gently kiss her face. “It pays to live on the edge of town,” Kat added, returning her attention to Ellie. “Much nicer sky. More company than the rest.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Ellie had said, astonished almost to the point of speechlessness. She sat down in a chair, leaning her guitar against it while holding the bag of marshmallows in her hands, crinkling the bag idly. The fire finally made her put it down to reach out her hands, thankful for the warmth.

“The more I live near downtown, the more I realize how nice it is out here,” she continued, trying not to let awkwardness settle into her voice. “Less people. Which means less shit opinions you gotta hear. Ever listen to Seth rant about how the youth are ruining this town? You’d want to rip your ears off.”

“Yeah, because it’s _totally_ young people and not the walking bags of misery outside the walls that are causing the issue,” Kat said with a gentle laugh to back it up, her head resting gently on her knees. As her laughter died down, she settled back into the grass behind her, gaze now focused on the night sky once more. “Why don’t you move? Not too many people begging for places around here… and it beats walking through midtown if I want to pick you up for a talk. It’d all just be more… convenient, I guess.”

She was looking around for something in the collection of stars. Eyes full, dancing around as if two orbs were attempting to locate a place to land. Her search was only interrupted by Ellie’s reply.

“I’ve thought about it,” Ellie admitted, shrugging her shoulders in defeat. “I don’t know if Joel’d like that. I’ve been nagging him about the cabin in the backyard. Seems livable enough. Would feel nice to have my _own_ place.”

But, that was a pipe dream, right? Ever since the Fireflies, and especially ever since that last bloater, all Joel seemed to do was keep an eye on her. _Bet he’s real happy Tripp took me off the scavenging team. Now I can’t leave the walls._

And, with a hint of a snort, she turned towards Kat, pulling out a beer from the box placed between them. “Hey Kat, looking for a roommate?” The can opened with a satisfying _tschk_ , leaving Ellie to curse as foam started to pour out.

 _Damn it…!_ She guzzled what she could, trying to keep it from soaking her pants. _Knew carrying all this shit was a bad idea._

“As fun as that’d be, I only have one bed, and I don’t think ya like me _that_ much.” There was a hint of teasing in her tone as she looked over, offering as much as a single wink before looking away, her hand finding its way to her pocket to pull out a pre-rolled blunt. She sat up once again, lighting it. The long drag she took, followed quickly by the puff of smoke she exhaled, was the start of shaking off the day’s issues.

“Maybe he’ll back off eventually,” she said. “He can only be overprotective for so long before it bites him back. Just be honest when necessary and it’ll be fine.”

Ellie would nod if she wasn’t choking down terrible beer, but it was nice to hear all the same. She appreciated Joel, don’t get her wrong, it’s just that sometimes she wished she had more… freedom. They’d spent so long out on the road. She’s practically had to be an adult her whole life. Why can’t he treat her like one now?

“Still would rather deal with him than Seth,” Ellie said, smiling all the same. “But I think you’re missin’ one little detail about your ole shack out in the boonies.”

A toothy grin stretched her lips.

“Your couch isn’t so bad.”

“My couch _is_ pretty nice,” Kat laughed. “Tell ya what, in the future, if you need a place to crash, you’re welcome to borrow it. However, I will not be apologizing for the smell of weed in my house, we’re a package deal. Frankly, the very thought of it smelling of anything else feels like a crime.” 

Finishing her rather dramatically said sentence, she took another hit from her joint, passing it off to Ellie to stand and stretch. She accepted the joint, taking a drag as she settled into her chair. Kat eventually sat down again, this time directly next to Ellie just so she could lean her head on the armrest.

“So, what have I missed in the Magical Land of Ellie, huh?”

Honestly, there wasn’t much to talk about in her life. One of the worst cons of being ‘grounded’ to staying within the walls. 

“Well, I learned how to deal with the flu. Fascinating stuff, right?” She let out a dry chuckle as she passed back the joint. “Turns out, it’s very hard to deal with in the apocalypse. Whaddya know?

“It’s not so bad,” she continued, a bit more serious. “I mean, I owe Eleanor a lot for taking me in after Tripp took me off the team. I could still be in classes with Lydia right now.

“What about you?” She asked, glancing towards the girl next to her, chuckling. “Should I even ask?” A lot of Kat’s stories about work usually tend to end with how shitty Jackson folks were to her. Usually made her want to go find one and punch them in the throat.

Immediately, the girl let out an exaggerated groan, taking a long drag from the joint. As she breathed out, her face was buried into the arm of the chair, muffled swears coming from her before she flipped her head over to actually respond to Ellie’s question. “I did _so much work_.”

Her blue eyes burned into Ellie’s, exhaustion understandably clinging to the bags under them. “It was mainly prep work today. Getting used to the horse I have to borrow, packing a bit of supplies to survive the trip… One I don’t wanna take, mind you. I’m going on quite the supply run with this guy named Carl. Never met him, and now I’m going to be stuck on the road with him. Ellie, I don’t want to go, please put me out of my misery.” As she spoke, Kat made a motion with her fingers, mimicking a gunshot to her temple.

The news took her by surprise. Kat was going on a supply run? For how long? With Carl? This smelled like some Tripp bullshit. And why did her friend leaving town for who knows how long feel like twisting a knife? She was more than capable of being on her own for a while. She did it all the time, nowadays.

But knowing that she had someone to confide in gave her comfort. Made the days easier. Having that be gone for a while…

 _Goddamn it, I’m hopeless._ Despite that, she took in a deep breath, forcing herself to think. Only one option presented itself. The only one that felt like a solution.

“I could ask Tripp if I can go too, if you want. I was one of his best, even if he won’t admit it. And you don’t have to go alone.” She paused. “Plus, I know Carl. He’s not so bad.”

The corners of Kat’s lips curled into a smile. “Aw, you can’t even let me go for a few days? You must really like me, E.” The girl laughed, scuffing out the remainder of her joint on the bottom of her boot. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you may even love me. Do you love your little friend?” The amount of teasing in her voice made it obvious that it was a joke, and probably had a lot to do with said joint that she was now picking up and tossing into the fire pit.

Ellie snorted, shaking her head. “In your dreams.” Still, the joke got her to forget about the worries of the day. Kat tended to have that effect. 

“I’d greatly appreciate the company,” Kat said, more seriously. “Because frankly I don’t like being trapped with strangers. So, thank you for the offer. I hope you can come.”

“Don’t worry, Tripp’s a real pushover. I’ll see you at the gate bright and early. With coffee, if I can steal some from Joel.” Late nights and early mornings don’t mix.

Grabbing her guitar, she plucked a few strings, getting a rhythm going. Soon, it’d be time to dig into the sickly sweet goodness of marshmallows, but until then, this was sweet enough.

Soft and sweet. Slow and atmospheric. She always liked this tune. Ellie took in a deep breath. Kat had moved away a bit to give her some room to play.

“ _I feel so extraordinary. Something’s got a hold on me…_ ”

And as quickly as the singing started, it faded away, voice cracks and all. Nervousness that snuck up on her like a stalker.

All Ellie could do was put on a brave face, casting small glances towards her friend nearby. “Sorry… not used to having an audience.”

“Shit, uh—” Kat’s smile remained, her hand hiding her face as she held back laughter. “That’s my bad for staring — Would it be better if… maybe I didn’t look?” Her eyes peeked through her fingers for a moment, head resting on her knees. “Or, whatever’s easiest for you! Obviously I’m not about to force you to play if you’re too nervous to!”

Ellie returned the smile, shaking her head. “No, it’s okay. I promise.” Playing those first few chords again, she picked back up right at the beginning, continuing on with as much courage as she could spare.

“ _I get this feeling I’m in motion. A certain sense of liberty. I don’t care ‘cause I’m not there. And I don’t care if I’m here tomorrow. Again and again, I’ve taken too much. Of the things that cost you too much…_ ”

The chorus came and went, while soft crackles of flames and distant chirping of crickets filled the air with its own music. By the time she’d finished, it was all that was left.

For a second, it seemed like nothing could pull her out of her reverie.

Until she laughed.

“You have _no idea_ how much time I spent learning that.”

“Practice is paying off, E. Sounded pretty good.” Kat said, watching her with eyes that screamed that she was impressed. “You’ll have to teach me how to sing like that some time. I definitely have a thing or two to learn.”

Ellie responded to the compliment by trying to brush some hair out of her face, smiling faintly. “It’s a date, then. Just don’t expect me to be able to teach you guitar or anything.” She let out a nervous laugh, putting the guitar down on the opposite side of her chair from where Kat was.

“Definitely. No need to teach me that. I uh — Don’t need to mess my hands up anyway. Can’t make art if I did that, you know?” The nervousness in Kat’s voice had Ellie’s ears pricking up, but she couldn’t really blame her. Learning this shit took a lot of work, and a lot of confidence.

Ellie could only smile back, however, looking forward to it. Not every day you got to be the teacher instead. But, for now, she’d just kick back and relax, before the real test began:

Dealing with Tripp in the morning. Leaving the walls again.

But with Kat there, it’d be more than endurable. Just her, Carl, and Kat on the road together. Sounded like a goddamned road trip to her.

Until then, she’d roast some marshmallows and enjoy the rest of the night. Just the two of them getting lost in the stars. The way nights should always be.


	9. The Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2021 everyone! Got a good one for you guys today, and there might be a multi-chapter release next week if I can get all the editing done on time. Things are really gonna start ramping up this year :)

_9:17 AM — October 2, 2026_

Navigating through the streets of Jackson on horseback was a challenge in itself, and Ellie tried to politely excuse her way towards the gates. More than a few angry replies were thrown her way, but she chose to ignore them. Better to just get moving, before it was too late.

She _knew_ that late nights and early mornings didn’t mix. At least demanding to go along on Kat’s trip had eventually proved successful, even if it did take a little convincing. After all, it was a slow week in the infirmary, and besides the tattoo that was still healing, she was no worse for wear. They needed her out there.

Arriving at the gates, several other riders awaited release from the town, the first one that Ellie noticed being Kat, who she waved to, a smile on her face. That was, until she noticed who else was there. Beside Carl, Lydia rode her own horse, that sheriff hat she liked to wear casting a shadow over her face in the morning light. Though, as much as her heart jumped at the thought of going on this thing with _Lydia_ , the next face she recognized had her stopping her horse in his tracks.

Voice raspy, shock written into her wide-eyed expression, she found herself stuttering the girl’s name. “C—Clementine?”

This time, she had to be hallucinating, right? There’s no fucking way that was Clementine there, on that horse across the way, _in_ Jackson. _No fucking way._

Clem’s reaction was to face away, grasping at the reins of her horse. “I’m going on ahead,” she said, and nothing more.

She could still turn back, Ellie knew that. Yet, even as Clementine slipped through the gate, Ellie still urged her horse forward, in between Carl and Kat. Another stupid thing to add to her stupid list. Like it or not, she still had something to say to her old friend, assuming Clementine would ever let her get close enough to talk to her on this little journey of theirs. She had her doubts.

Sighing, clutching the reins tightly, she spoke up in a defeated voice. “Let’s just go.” With a gesture of the reins, Shimmer cantered forward, out the gates. She kept him going slow enough to never catch up with Clementine.

Her Scottish friend found her way to her side, and Ellie busied herself by scratching at the reins with her fingernails. At least one thing about this trip wasn’t _horrible_.

“You, uh… excited for the trip?” Kat asked, each word feeling as if they were tactically chosen. “You seemed pretty… you know, happy about it, before we all set out.”

Glancing towards Kat as they passed through the field separating Jackson from the nearby forest, Ellie took in a deep breath, bracing herself.

“I didn’t know Clementine was here. Or coming with us,” she said, biting her lip. “I figured it was just you and Carl. Guessing Lydia and Clem were late additions.”

She wouldn’t get into how weird it was that Clem had shown up at all. Maybe she’d made some kind of deal with Tripp, as much as she didn’t see that ever happening. She had a feeling the baseball-capped girl wouldn’t be here otherwise. Probably just another step in her journey to Salt Lake.

“I was kinda vague about it before,” Ellie continued, “I didn’t want to bother you with it, but… I said some things I regret to her. She probably hates me.” _Probably? Pfft. Definitely. I hate myself, too._ “Not that I don’t deserve it,” she finished, quieter.

The faint breeze made Ellie shiver, but her new tattoo kept her from wearing a hoodie for the time being, so she’d just have to deal with it. There were worse things to deal with than the cold.

“We all say shitty things,” Kat said. “It’s up to the other person to choose whether or not they forgive you… and you have the choice to forgive yourself, too. And, I don’t know the situation—at all—but are you sure she didn’t say anything either? An argument is a two person tango. She might not be all innocent either, and if that’s the case, why beat yourself up over it when you both could, possibly, be at fault?” As she spoke, she leaned a bit forward, resting a hand against the horse’s neck to gently pet it. Then, her gaze shifted up to the ball-capped girl, her eyes narrowing before turning back to Ellie with a softer expression.

“She wants to leave,” Ellie explained. “Find her parents. She didn’t tell me that, but… it’s obvious. I just didn’t want to see it before. I’d just gotten her back.” The trail led onward, deeper into the forest. It only grew colder once the sun could no longer reach them. “I got angry. She snapped back, and I couldn’t take any more. Told her ‘fuck you’, and left. Took me a while to realize that she needs to go, and I’m just holding her back.” Another sigh escaped her lips. “She needs to know what happened to her parents. I shouldn’t’ve tried to take that from her. Forgiveness can come later. If she ever comes back.”

Kat shook her head, hands letting go of the reins to begin popping the buttons on her coat. “You got caught up in the moment. I get it. Both of you are at fault for something here. Her leaving without giving you that chance to properly say goodbye was fucked, and she left you in shambles. But, you trying to make her come back before she was ready was also fucked.

“You both deserve to be upset with each other, but you should be learning to be less upset with yourselves. Remember what I said? Dwelling on the past makes your rock heavier. And Ellie… yours looks about ready to drown you.”

She returned her gaze towards Ellie once her coat was off. She then rolled her eyes, leaning over to drape it over Ellie’s shoulders. It was big, that’s for sure. Military-grade. Trenchcoat, by the look of it. It was covered in a few cool patches and several pins. Either she’d found it that way, or somehow collected them. Either way, looked pretty badass. Under that coat, Kat apparently only wore a muscle shirt, because no one could ever tell her to dress appropriately.

“Also, if you freeze, I have to worry about finding someone new to talk to. So… not letting that happen, E.”

Ellie let go of the reins to slip her arms into the sleeves, trying to ignore the irritation it caused on her healing skin. “Thanks,” she said warmly, smiling for a moment. She eventually let it go, just as much as she was ready to let this whole situation with her and Clementine go.

Hands back on the reins, she continued in a calmer voice, “I’ll be fine, I promise. Just the initial shock. C’mon, we should pick up the pace. No telling how long it’ll take to get out of these mountains. Better to make camp beyond ‘em.”

With that, she coaxed her horse into a light trot, following the trail deeper into the valley.

* * *

By the time the sun had reached its peak, and aptly obscured by clouds as a storm brewed in the distance, Ellie found herself deciding that Tripp allowed her to go on this thing purely to spite her. Silent for most of their trip so far, she feared speaking up. She feared incurring Lydia’s wrath—and Clementine’s—though she found herself doubting that the ball-capped girl would even acknowledge her anyway. She wasn’t sure which was worse, either.

They weren’t out of the mountains still, but they were getting close. The forests had given way to grassy fields, flanked on either side by huge peaks already covered in snow. ‘Least down here, they still had a while longer before _that_ kicked in.

Ellie kept a respectful distance from the rest of the group, preferring to take in the world around her. A small stream here, massive fucking mountains everywhere… at least Jackson wasn’t dull. She’d found herself looking towards Clem a few times, but never more than a few seconds. That’s all it took for the anxiety to kick in. She hated it.

As the storm loomed ever closer, Ellie frowned, scanning the horizon as she maneuvered her horse beside Kat’s. “Not a lot of shelter around here.” She unzipped Kat’s jacket, handing it back to her. She’d grab her own hoodie in a minute. “Too bad we’re past the ranch. Would’ve been nice to not get soaked through.”

“We should be fine if we can find a patch with enough overhang. But, considering the storm—and the fact the poor horse here isn’t having this atmosphere—we’re going to have a rough night. Definitely one that probably won’t have a fire. We should’ve waited another day before heading out… not that any of us saw a storm coming…” Kat said, slipping her jacket back on and bundling up as she ran her hand along her horse’s fur to try and calm it down. “We’ll find something,” she vowed.

“Something tells me that Tripp wanted Clem gone as soon as he could, anyway,” Ellie mused, frowning. _Asshole._ Taking the time to take her backpack off, cradling it between her legs, she slipped her hoodie on, returning the backpack to its rightful place. “We’re beyond the usual patrol routes. Got no idea what’s out here. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“It’s not the worst out here. Minus the storm, I’d say it’s borderline peaceful. No infected, yet. No one in your face yelling about how much you aren’t supposed to be in the community. It’s a break, despite having a basic goal in mind. I’d even be inclined to say I prefer this over Jackson. At least, right now.” Kat looked over to the girl, shrugging as she continued to calmly pet her horse.

Ellie shifted in her saddle as they continued down the path through the valley, keeping a respectable distance from the others. At Kat’s words, Ellie frowned. “I wouldn’t hold your breath for that. Lydia has a way of telling you how she really feels. Only a matter of time.”

Her horse grew just as agitated as Kat’s, leading to Ellie trying to calm it down. Through the corner of her eye, she continued, “I’m worried about this journey. Can’t have this much tension in a group without something blowing up, eventually.”

“If it blows up, and it probably will… I’ll, uh… I’ll still be here, you know? At least, I’ll try to be. I’ve lived with assholes my entire life, I’m used to a bit of yelling, fighting, and overall unpleasantness. I think we all just need to relax, find a good place to set up for the night, and get some sleep. The tension will hopefully die down if we give it a good shot at an icebreaker. We’ll be f—” Kat was cut off as her horse began to freak, his neighing seeming to slow as Kat pulled back on the reins. She hushed the animal, seemingly thankful to still be on it as she relaxed. “Fine—We’ll be… fine—Once we get out of this fuckin’ weather.”

That didn’t make her feel much better, but what could they do? Lydia hated her guts, and Clementine didn’t seem to want to even look at her, so Carl was their only friendly face, and she doubted he’d even talk to them in fear of what Lydia might do. Fan-fucking-tastic group.

“Looks like that forest is gonna be our best bet,” Ellie said, indicating the treeline in the distance. There wasn’t much else around. “We’re lucky they haven’t started losing their leaves yet. Might be enough.” _Or we’ll get soaked all the same._

“Do you want to try it out? A little rain never bothered me much. And, if we’re quick, we can figure out some sorta… shelter situation. Or, we continue up the path, and hope to make it out the mountains.” The girl shrugged, her gaze shifting towards Carl.

Ellie shook her head. “Better finding shelter than getting sick. Temperature’s dropping, too.” She sighed, looking towards the group ahead, debating whether or not she should call out and see if they were stopping or just do it herself. Instead, she bit her tongue lightly, holding back.

Sighing, she led her horse towards the trees. At a mild trot, they’d reach it in a few minutes. “Come on,” she called towards Kat. The rest would either follow or go on, at that moment she didn’t care which.

From behind, she heard Kat call out to the rest of the group anyway. “You heard the lady. Get your asses into high gear. Please, and thank you.” And, as she caught up to Ellie, she said, “Right behind you, E. Lead the way.”

Even the forest was sparsely packed, leaving little natural cover from the rain. Ellie, after stopping where the trees grew seemingly the densest, set out to place a tarp between several trunks, tying them up to each. As she did so, she noticed Kat nearby, wiping her hands off on her jeans before setting herself down on the ground beneath the tarp.

“Won’t exactly keep the wind out, but at least we won’t be soaked through.” _Until the wind picks up and the rain goes sideways. Oh well, not much we can do about that._ In a few moments, they’d have to search for some dry wood for burning, but she’d wait for Carl and the rest to catch up first.

With a wary gaze, Ellie continued. “You ready for hell? Soon as those three get here, don’t think there’ll be much peace left.” Ellie really wanted to talk with Clementine, but if she stuck by Lydia’s side the whole time, she wouldn’t have much of a chance to do it. Maybe that was the point. “I can hear Lydia already.” She put on a higher pitched voice, rolling her eyes. “‘I’m not sharing a camp with that traitor bitch and her Savior friend.’” She groaned, already winding herself up.

Kat let out a small snort as she finished tying up her horse close by. “She’ll be easy to handle. Last I saw, she was a little blonde who is more bark than bite. It’s not every day you get into a yippin’ match with a puppy.” She joked, fixing her jacket as she moved over to Ellie’s side. Kat sat down, resting back onto her back to get a bit more comfortable. She let her hair fall into the grass and leaves below, a short exhale escaping her lips.

The thought of comparing Lydia to a puppy made Ellie chuckle, shaking her head. She couldn’t really vouch for Lydia’s ‘all bark no bite’ thing, though. The first time Ellie’d managed to piss her off, she spat on her, called her a whore, and gave Clementine enough bruises and cuts to keep Eleanor busy all night long. Seemed plenty bite to her. The thought of those two being friendly after all that baffled her. Ellie had instigated it, sure, but Lydia wasn’t stable, that much had been clear from the get-go.

Still, no point dwelling on it. It’d only make her angry. She laid her back against the tree, watching as Kat stared up at the blue tarp above them, her own lips curving into an amused smile.

“This is the life, you know,” Kat said. “Save for the storm, it might’ve been the perfect night for stargazing. That’s the best part of being out campin’. You get to see such a beautiful sight. I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem too bad out here. Even if the others aren’t too thrilled to see us, we can find some joy in being out here.”

“Not _every_ night can be like last night,” Ellie chuckled, wishing that weren’t true. “It was fun, though. Never got to do that with anyone else before. Usually just me sneaking onto the roof of the orphanage back in Boston. First thing I noticed after leaving the QZ was just… how many stars there are. A lot of ‘em you can’t see in the city. It’s like the universe just opens up to you, and… yeah. It’s beautiful.” She looked towards the ground then, grazing teeth along her bottom lip. “Sometimes, I like the quiet. Being alone with the stars.”

Kat took a deep inhale, shutting her eyes for a moment as Ellie spoke, her voice… much quieter and softer than moments before. “Do you want to know what someone very important once told me about the stars?”

Kat’s eyes opened again, her gaze still resting on the tarp above as if she can practically see the stars. “Each star isn’t just a ball of… whatever… floating in space. Each and every single one is a soul of someone who is no longer with us. I believe that more than ever now that life is this shitty. Memories, thoughts, what make them… them… it’s all there. If you think really hard about them, the star shines brighter. That’s why sometimes the stars are dim, no longer there. ‘Cause people forget. People stop thinking of others once they’re gone, and they fade. But me? I never forget. I always have my lost ones on my mind. Even if it doesn’t seem like that. I like to think my father is the brightest one up there. Which… is kinda selfish.” She laughed, wisps of her breath moving into the air above.

Ellie followed Kat’s gaze towards the tarp, a sense of wonder on her face as she imagined what the girl was explaining. She knew that it was probably wishful thinking to think that’s true, just as much as the idea of a god and a heaven and a hell seemed… strange. But, she wanted to believe it.

“It, uh… definitely makes me feel better to think that way. The irony of someone as… painfully staining on my life being such a good influence on my grief. It’s laughable.” Kat shook her head, closing her eyes for another moment before she opened them again to look towards Ellie.

Breathing in softly, Ellie let it out with a faint smile. “I hope my mom’s up there. Somewhere. It’d be nice to know she’s looking out for me.”

She’d take anything more of her mother. Anything more than a disintegrating letter left in the depths of her backpack, and a switchblade she’d managed to hold onto despite all odds. Anything at all.

“I bet she is. And… I think she’d be pretty proud of the woman you’re becoming. You’ve had some bumps in the road lately, but how can she not be? I know I am.” Kat smiled, flipping over onto her stomach to get a better look at her friend. “Even if it’s the most unlikely thing in the world, if you can be a star on Earth, who says you can’t be one when you’re not, as well? A literal one? That’s what I’d hope to be. It’d be the best fate I could wish upon myself when I finally bite the dust.

“All this… religious stuff isn’t for me… but this…? This is my reality. One with… pathetic dreams… but dreams nonetheless.

“Your mom and my dad are both probably watching us. Knowing Father, he’s cracking ridiculous jokes about whatever I’m up to, maybe they’re even close by one another. There is a universe of stars! So many stories, all just waiting to be told!

“That’s the dream, E! Everyone gets their story, so when we write them in the stars, we have to make it worth being told! We’ll glow… so bright… everyone who ever doubted us—saw us as unfit… unworthy? Just some stupid Savior and a traitor? They won’t be able to ignore us. We’ll shine… and—and it’ll mean, everything. A corpse in the ground, left in a black, endless void? Please. I’m going to be a star, baby. And I’ll shine just as bright as my dad.” Kat’s smile grew as she stood up, standing just at the edge of the tarp. She looked up at the clouded sky, the rain leaving droplets of water on her face.

“We’ll be the biggest stars of them all, E. And no one can take that from us.”

Listening to Kat talk about the stars was like seeing a whole different side to her, a side that Ellie was getting more accustomed to seeing. Talks of rocks and comforting hugs and soul stars? No matter how stressful life got, she could always count on her to lighten the mood. She loved her for it. It reminded her of conversations long ago, of a girl refusing to give up on her even when Ellie felt that all was lost. People needed people like that. Hopefully Clementine had one too, in Lydia. If that was possible.

So, her smile only grew larger, a hint of a chuckle under her voice. “Do I get to be bigger than Betelgeuse?” It was one of the only stars she could remember that were apparently _massive_. Bright balls of fire that cast their glows over space like shining beacons.

“Hey. Maybe wait up a bit next time?” Lydia’s voice interrupted the moment, looking down at them from atop her horse as she approached. “Better to travel together. It’d just _kill me_ to see something happen to you guys. People go missing pretty often when they’re out this far, y’know?” Lydia took notice of the tarp, then her eyes drifted back to the duo, a smug grin on her face. “At least you made yourselves useful.”

When the rest finally showed up, and Lydia predictably tried patronizing them for leaving them behind, all Ellie could do was roll her eyes. _If y’all weren’t so slow, then maybe you would’ve kept up. Serves you right._ Instead, nothing came out of her mouth. Better that way. She still had to survive these next couple days.

Kat turned to look at the other three as they moved in, her smile fading ever so slightly. “Sorry about that, guys. I was definitely itching to get off the horse and stretch. Besides, I bet they’re both enjoying their break.” Kat motioned to the horses they rode. As she did so, she made her way back to Ellie’s side, taking a seat comfortably. “Well, make yourselves at home. We’ll be here for the night no problem.”

“Tree coverage is solid,” Ellie said, matter-of-factly. “And we were about to look for some firewood. So, yeah. We’ll just… continue being _useful_.” At that, Ellie picked herself off the ground, dusting her jeans off. Passing a light glare towards Lydia, only softening into a blank expression by the time her eyes flitted towards Clementine, Ellie zipped up her jacket further and put on the hood, heading off into the forest alone.

Anything to get away from Lydia for a second longer. She had her machete with her, so she wasn’t worried about being alone. Probably best that way. Lydia already hated her and Kat hanging out as it was without making it seem… like it’s more. Would _hate_ for her to think they were talking shit behind her back.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she disappeared into the foliage.

* * *

Searching for dry wood had given her the time she needed to gather her thoughts and mentally prepare herself for spending a night in close proximity to Lydia and Clementine. A part of her felt guilty for leaving Kat behind to fend for herself, but the other part knew that she seemed more than capable of turning the tide of an argument. She liked the quiet, anyway. Menial tasks to focus on. It reminded her of working in the infirmary.

By the time she finished gathering firewood, the storm had grown in intensity, causing Ellie to have to clutch the bundle of sticks underneath her jacket to keep them dry. Thunder rumbled through the valley, so loud that Ellie might’ve gone deaf. It was a long walk back to the camp, and her footsteps grew shorter the closer she got, as if they, too, dreaded returning.

Thankfully, no one seemed to be at each other’s throats. Clementine was tending to her horse, she noticed, while Lydia and Carl stuck to each other, and Kat beneath the tarp they’d set up earlier. More tarps were placed in the trees, giving them each a place to sleep for the night with relative dryness. Hopefully the storm would let up soon.

Ellie came into the camp silently, placing the wood in a pile near the center. Reaching for her backpack, she grumbled as she realized she hadn’t brought a lighter along. When she heard Clementine prop herself down behind her, far as she was, Ellie called out for her with a turn of the head. “Do you still have those matches?”

Clementine had frowned, fidgeted in her spot on the ground she’d taken, before reaching for her back pocket. Silently, she tossed the box of matches at her.

Ellie caught the box, and the frown she was now sharing. _Best not to think about it…_ Turning back towards her pile, she gathered some kindling from beneath the tarps, anything that was still dry enough to catch. Placing it into the pile, she lit a match, trying to start as many tiny fires as she could, blowing gently to breathe life into it. Eventually, the kindling caught, and with time, so did the sticks, twigs, and small logs she’d managed to gather. Setting herself beneath her own tarp, Ellie reached out to warm her hands, rubbing them together.

“Would’ve been nice if we had some marshmallows,” she said to no one in particular, her sarcasm as dry as her mood had become.

Ellie watched as Lydia stood up to talk to Clementine at the edge of the camp, only pulling her eyes away as Kat sat herself down at her side, laying down and using a hand to prop herself up a bit as she stared into the fire. “Marshmallows would’ve been killer. Too bad I also left my main supply at home. This is a smoke break if I’ve ever seen one. Maybe I’m lucky and got something.”

Ellie let out a half chuckle. “No way,” she said, as if daring her to prove her wrong and pull out a bag then and there.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see.” Kat rolled her eyes, standing up and moving over to where she stored her bag.

She rummaged around the contents she had brought with her. It took some digging, but eventually she did pull out a bag, moving back over to the fire with a victorious smile. The instant that bag came out of Kat’s backpack, Ellie couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. Kat _would_. She found herself by Ellie’s side again, flashing the bag to her before beginning to roll some of it.

“Never underestimate my need to smoke.” As she said that, she stuck an end of the joint in the fire, pulling it back and taking a rather large inhale before passing it to Ellie. As the smoke left her lips, she let out a sigh.

Taking a drag of the joint, Ellie handed it back to her friend, blowing the smoke away from everyone else. At least, she’d try to keep things civil and not get on anyone’s nerves. A small smile stretched her lips as she relaxed into her spot next to the fire.

“Damn, I should underestimate you more often.”

“Please do. I love an excuse to blow off steam.” She took another puff, blowing out a few rings as she settled against Ellie. “I have no idea when I put this in there, but past me is officially smarter than present me.” As she let out a small laugh at her own joke, Kat looked over to Lydia and Clementine. “You think those two need a hit? Maybe it’ll pull the stick out their asses.”

The physical contact, mixed with the mention of Lydia and Clementine, had her smile dropping. Her eyes fell to the fire, taking in a sharp breath through her nose. “Maybe,” she said. She wasn’t nearly high enough to talk about those two. The way her girlfriend had been treating her since Jackson was still proving to stab at her. If she could even call her that anymore. Ellie wasn’t sure. She hated that feeling, too.

It only worsened when Clementine approached the fire, asking “Can I sit too?” She was pulling at the bottom of her jersey to keep her hands busy, looking just as nervous as Ellie felt. Because the instant Clementine joined them at the fire, Ellie stiffened as hard as marble.

Kat had looked up the second footsteps could be heard, and she blew her puff of smoke away from the others, smiling at Clementine warmly. “Sure you can. Open fire, after all.” She gestured for her to take a seat, moving to get off of Ellie. “We were just talking about you, actually. Well. You and Lydia. We were wondering if you’d maybe like a hit? Looks like we all are just a bit on edge today.” Kat held out the joint towards Clementine, resting comfortably next to the fire.

Lydia, who had followed behind Clementine with the white hood of her jacket up, scrunched her nose in disgust. Clementine followed suit, if a little more politely.

“It’s easy to feel on edge out here, isn’t it?” Lydia asked. “A lot can happen outside of the walls.” Her voice was so casual, Ellie knew it had to be on purpose. “Maybe the feeling’ll wear off after a few days.”

Lydia casted a glare towards Ellie, directly opposite from where she and Clementine sat, and stared straight into her eyes as she spoke up once more. Not even taking the time to blink. “Still, I’d sleep with one eye open tonight, just in case.”

Clementine had chosen to ignore the threat, it seemed. Instead focusing on Kat. “No thanks,” came her response. “How about… just your name, first.”

“Suit yourself, more for us… And, Kat. Most call me that. The longer version is an earsore.” Kat sat back, taking another drag before handing it back to Ellie, blowing the smoke away from the group.

“Looks like you girls are having fun, huh?” Carl called as he approached the fire. “Mind if I join in? I was on the lookout ‘cause I thought I heard something. Turned out to just be a couple raccoons going at it.”

When Carl returned, Ellie had only managed to relax slightly, just enough to take in an extra long drag of the joint as Kat passed it to her, letting it out slowly. _C’mon, just get me high already. I want out of this place._

But, it seemed that Carl’s introduction had Kat choking, letting out a soft laugh and nodding in response. “Of course, give those trash cats their privacy. The more the… hopefully merrier. And, Lydia… helpful advice. You can never be… uh—T… Too careful, yes, that’s the word.”

“Okay.” Lydia responded, completely monotone.

Ellie tried to let Lydia’s veiled threat go unanswered, but Kat had decided otherwise, throwing in a few words that Ellie winced at. Still, she refused to give in to what Lydia wanted. They had to deal with each other, whether they liked it or not.

“So. Uh, you guys are all... Jackson... people—How’d you all end up there in the first place? Was it… like—by choice?” Kat asked, leaning into her hand to listen.

Ellie straightened her back as the question was broached, which she knew had been directed towards Lydia and Clementine. But she had a feeling that they’d just retort instead, so she answered for them in a matter-of-fact tone, “It wasn’t the end-goal, but it became it. Nothing much else out there.”

“Yes. It was by choice,” Lydia said next. “Most of the time we all have a choice when it comes to the company we keep. Don’t you guys think?” Lydia made a statement under the guise of a question. _That’s the shittiest segue I’ve ever heard._ Ellie found herself thinking. She obviously elected to ignore the comment. Lydia would be fishing for a reaction out of her all night, she knew, so she wasn’t going to give it to her. If Lydia wanted to start yelling at her instead, then Ellie would have a reason to fight back. Until then, fuck her. She wasn’t getting baited into this again.

Handing the joint over to Kat, she grabbed her backpack, digging through it. She pulled out several cans of food, holding them up. “Anyone hungry?” _‘Oh sure, Ellie, I’m hungry. Hungry for your blood.’ You’re a mood vampire, Lydia, sucking out all the pleasantness out of this disaster of a run._

Clementine eventually took one of the cans, leading to Ellie smiling nervously. At least _someone_ accepted her offer. Maybe that’s why those thoughts resurfaced again, of Clementine and the ranch. A lull in the conversation that acted as the calm before the storm, just as the real one brewed ever louder. She set down the cans next to her backpack, clearing her throat.

“Well, they’re here, if you want any. I guess.” Her eyes flickered towards Clementine, taking small spoonfuls of the canned food, as Ellie swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

_It’s now or never, Elle._

“Clem—” It sounded more like she was choking than saying a name. She hated having to speak up, but what else was she supposed to do? This was the first chance she’d gotten to get close to her.

And she had a feeling it was about to blow up in her face. The weed, at least, made the anxiety bearable.

“Can we ta—?”

“Hey, you guys?!” It took every ounce of Ellie’s sober courage to even speak up, yet the instant she did Clementine drowned her out, practically shouting. Her stomach broiled, fists clenched within the space between her crossed legs. “Let’s play a game, okay?”

Clementine had pulled a pen and a crumpled piece of paper from her backpack, and scribbled something down on it, before tearing the paper into five pieces and tossing them inside her empty can of food.

“Here. We pick two names from the can… First one has to say something, other has to listen. The catch is… it has to be something you’ve never said to them. And it has to be true.” Clementine, for the first time that day, looked straight into Ellie’s eyes. “Liars get tossed in the fire.” She held the can close to her chest, waiting for someone to pick the papers at random. “Go ahead.”

Every ounce of Ellie’s being wanted to stand up, grab her horse, and gallop her ass straight home. 

“I’m game.”

Yet even that wouldn’t be possible, as Kat had walked right into their trap, pulling out the names from the empty can. She then read them out, her voice cracking. “Uh… Lydia and Ellie, in that order.” Afterward, she sheepishly stuck the two names back in the can.

To say that Ellie wasn’t surprised about the names that got picked would be an understatement. Lydia couldn’t have had a wider grin on her face at that moment.

“Hey Ellie, remember that day the Saviors showed up at our front gates?” ‘Course, Lydia was playing coy; Tommy’s murder by Negan, everything that happened in the church, the literal fall of Jackson and their way of life. Of course she’d remember, and Lydia was counting on it. “After that, I was actually pretty surprised when you became best friends with one.” She admitted, sarcasm oozing from her lips. “Bet you thought I wasn’t.” she added, playfully, tossing her the fakest smile ever.

She gave Lydia the most soulless stare she could muster, dipping her toes into her _not sober_ courage to keep from going ballistic. Honestly, no. Not a single word that came out of her mouth surprised Ellie. It was the same shit she’d been telling her. Ellie didn’t care. Fuck her. But now Clementine knew, and it wasn’t like Ellie was intentionally hiding it from her, but she had hoped to broach the subject more… diplomatically. Guess that wasn’t going to happen.

So, having done her part in _listening_ , she grabbed the can, pulling out a pair of names. Voice almost emotionless, she read them out. “Lydia and Clementine.”

_Have at it, princesses._

“Wow, me again. Thanks Ellie!” Lydia was all perked up and beaming now, having an absolute blast. “Clem.” The blonde cleared her throat, directing a gaze towards the ball-capped girl. From the girl’s demeanor, to her tone, everything instantly became a whole heap more genuine. “I know you’ve had to put up with a lot of bullshit from _certain people_ recently. But uh, haven’t told you that last night was probably the funnest time I’ve had in… ages.” Ellie’s glare only deepened. “Would be… cool if we could swap you back into Jackson and kick someone else out instead. Doubt you’d wanna come back though, I kinda don’t trust the quality of people there anymore.”

Clementine, who’d seemed like she wasn’t even there anymore, listened to Lydia’s turn before grabbing two papers from the can and reading them aloud. “Carl and Kat.”

Carl, from his spot beside Lydia, took a second to think. “I think it won’t be a surprise for you if I tell you I don’t think highly of your group. Well, you don’t seem that bad.”

His turn went by in a flash. At least someone else in this fuckfest of a group gave a shit about giving people a chance. Was it weird that Ellie liked him more than Clementine at that moment? Not in the same way as before, of course, but at least he wasn’t acting like Lydia.

Kat, taking one last drag from the joint, put the remainder out below her as Carl spoke. She’d bitten her lip as he talked about her group, and only relaxed as the rest of his statement turned out to be not so bad. She gave him a thumbs up, a half-hearted smile following as she shook the can and plucked two names out. “First we got Ellie and…” She went silent for a moment, blinking as she read the name on the paper. She let out a short sigh, and Ellie looked over. “…Uh, me—” Kat said in a less than enthusiastic tone, and probably not just because Clem had spelled her name as ‘Cat’. She placed the names back in the tin.

Clementine’s head seemed to perk up, and Ellie could feel her gaze on her, even if she wouldn’t look straight at her.

Ellie took in a deep breath. What could she say about Kat that she hadn’t said before? Not that anyone would really know besides them…

But cheating was never an option.

“I’ve never properly thanked you. For everything you did for me, after the Saviors showed up. You didn’t have to give a shit. About my skin burn.” She pulled up the sleeve of her hoodie to show the tattoo, dropping it once more. “About how I felt. The anger and the hurt. You could’ve been like every other Savior I’ve ever met, looking down on anyone who isn’t you. But that isn’t you. You pick people up. You look at the silver linings. So many people don’t do that anymore, no matter what side you’re on.

“You might’ve grown up as a Savior, but you were never really one of them. Just a kind soul trapped in the same system _we’re_ in. Knowing what I know about you, if I treated you like a monster, then it’s _me_ who would be.”

She didn’t have much more to say after that, or at least, it’d get into territory that she’s already treaded in the past. Letting out the rest of her breath, she settled in her spot next to the campfire.

Once Ellie stopped talking, Kat grinned from ear to ear, which was such a polar opposite from the terrified stillness she’d had the moment her name had come out of her own mouth. Then she pulled Ellie into a hug, pressing her face into her shoulder for just a moment, and whispering a small “thank you,” before pulling back and flashing her million ration cards smile.

Of course, the smile was wiped clean off once she drew the next two names. “E… Ellie to Clementine—”

Clementine froze so stiff she turned blue.

Ellie was right back where she started, and this time she wasn’t at all prepared for it. How could she? Clementine had made this game up to hurt her, that much was clear, and now that it was her turn to be able to hurt her back? That thought became just that, a thought that got lost in the noise. That part of her, that self-pity, it repeated that she’d deserved this anyway. Whether or not Ellie had always had good intentions, or emotions she couldn’t control, she was the traitor. She was the girl that told her best friend off and did exactly as Riley had done to her. They’d both done that to each other, really.

Kat had been right from the start: they were both wrong. Just two kids with no idea how to love, and how to handle loss and grief and fights. How to put your feelings aside to find a middle ground. Maybe it was doomed to be this way from the start, but she refused to believe that. After everything they’d been through, was she really going to let this all fall apart because of herself?

Lydia’s laughter at the previous round didn’t help, but when did Ellie not ignore the things that came out of her mouth?

Taking in a breath felt as if she was on another world: a thicker atmosphere, and little oxygen to be found. She was at the edge of the universe, with no way back.

“You mean more to me than anyone I’ve ever met.” Her heart felt heavier. “And I know I’ve hurt you. And I know that I’ve apologized for the shit I’ve put you through countless times, so I can’t even do that now, to not break the rules.” Her legs felt like jelly. “I know that I was selfish. I know that holding onto you was just taking your choices away.” Her throat was closing up. “Where you’re going, I know that you have to. You deserve to find them. You deserve to be happy. You deserve so much more than I could ever give you.” If her body could have a system-wide meltdown, now would be the time it’d happen. Yet, Ellie just kept going, saying everything she wanted to say.

“I just wish that I could’ve gone with you, but I understand why you don’t want me to, both then and now. And if you hate me, I understand that, too. And, as maddening as you can be sometimes, I know that I could never hate you.”

She shifted in her spot, soft inhales followed by ever-increasing anxious exhales. “Find them,” she said. “Please.”

Clementine... didn’t respond. Not for a while. But, once the shock had worn off, her expression became unreadable. She breathed, first. Faster than normal. Her mouth opened a third of the way through, and waited for anything to be said so that the rest of her body could catch up. Only when her breathing became even did Clementine ask, “Do you want to break up?”

Ellie shook her head once. If there was anything she was certain of, it was this. “No. I never do.”

But that’s the thing, wasn’t it? Reality needed to come and punch her square in the jaw. Wriggling thoughts that Clementine did, and maybe she was right to want to. Maybe they’d never see each other again anyway, but did that change her answer? Not really.

Maybe she liked thinking that she had a girlfriend out there, living her best life with her parents, rather than an ex that never wanted to see her again. It was sappy, maybe misguided, but when was anything she’s ever done or said been logical?

Clementine chuckled at that, and she actually smiled. Her eyes shone with the dwindling firelight, ambers mixed with amber of her own.

“Me neither.”

With those two words, an insurmountable weight was lifted off of her shoulders. All this time… regretting, hating, coping, it seemed only then that those rocks had finally drifted away, downstream. There was resolution, though Ellie knew nothing had really changed. All she cared about, though, was that Clementine would leave Jackson _not_ hating her. Even though that selfish side of her hoped that she’d return, with her parents, some day. She knew that she’d support her if she didn’t.

Ellie had no idea what to say after that, but she couldn’t help the smile that was plastered on her face. She looked like the biggest idiot in Jackson, but she didn’t care.

It was Lydia who broke the silence, standing up. “Excuse me.” She dusted herself off before turning around, and with little delay, left the fire to retreat to her sleeping bag.

“You know what?” Kat started laughing under her breath, shaking her head as she stood up and stretched out. “I’m with Lydia on this one. This wasn’t a game to win, but you both definitely won it. I say it’s time to end it here. I’ll take watch till the high wears off a bit more, if you don’t mind. I need something to focus on. I’ll be in shouting distance.” Kat offered a smile in parting, walking off towards the edge of one of the tarps to take a seat and look out over the trees.

Carl was next. “Well, I gotta go make sure our supplies are well secured. Don’t want raccoons poking around our food.” As he walked away, he looked in Lydia’s direction, then towards Kat, and then finally left without another word.

As everyone else left—either bitterly or warmly—Ellie was left with Clementine at the campfire, though the silence that had befallen them wasn’t as suffocating as it might’ve been twenty minutes ago. Settling on opening a can herself and getting something in her system before resting, the rest of the afternoon went by in relative peace. And, as darkness fell, and the rain stopped, Ellie settled into her sleeping bag for the night.

They still had a long journey ahead of them, she knew, and while things between her and Clementine might be better than they had been, there were still a million things that could go wrong tomorrow.

She just had to hold onto hope that this was the worst it would get.


	10. Selfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit delayed on this chapter release, but we're here! You can also follow me on twitter for regular updates [@YourEverydayDot](https://twitter.com/YourEverydayDot), I also post release tweets there and delays (such as the one I'll have to make tonight for the Fanfiction.net version of the story since that site's bugged tonight).

The wind chilled to the bone, aching as they froze in the snowy night. It had grown overnight, white piles that blanketed the earth, as cold as she felt inside. The town slept, leaving the street ahead dark, and the only illumination being the minuscule glow of the snow in the faint moonlight. 

Ellie was used to taking walks like these: alone, her thoughts somewhere far away, somewhere where she lived another life. No hardship, no questionable moralities. No regrets that clung to her like glue. They were nothing but that, though. Daydreams. Here, the world was very real. Visceral. Hard. Here, there were no saints, no sinners, no weak, no strong, no men, no women. They were just survivors. People.

And she couldn’t help but wish that it was anything else.

Her stroll through the town square eventually led her to the restaurant she’d been heading towards. It stood out amongst the mom-and-pop stores that surrounded it, like a beacon in the night. The faint candlelight filtering through the windows only helped in forcing her focus on it. As she opened the door, she kicked off the snow clinging to her boots, letting the door shut behind her.

The smell of garlic filled the air, and spices she couldn’t quite identify. People she vaguely recognized ate at a table in the lower section, sending her a curt nod as they noticed her. She nodded back, approaching the window in the wall that divided her from the kitchen on the other side, then towards the door next to it. The instant she entered, the smell strengthened, causing her mouth to salivate. A man was cooking on the stove inside, and as she entered, he looked towards her, smiling. His black beard had been neatly trimmed, making him seem younger than his years, though the gray hairs that were popping through gave his age away.

“Ellie! Fucking finally, child, you took your goddamn time.” His voice was gravelly—warm, in a weird way. Ellie answered the comment with a smile of her own, leaning against the counter next to him as he continued to season a patty of meat on the stove.

“The perimeter needed checking. Again.” There wasn’t much of a wall around this place, if at all, so their only natural defenses came from patrol routes and natural barriers, like the lake nearby. It made them an easy target, though living so far out in the middle of nowhere, they hadn’t seen anyone in months. “Derek refuses to do it, so that honor fell to me.”

“Look at you, taking initiative. That’s what I fucking love about you, kid,” the man said, laughing as he flipped the patty with a rusting spatula. “You get shit done. The rest of these sorry shits oughta learn from you.” His smile fell then, a slight shrug of his shoulders following his next words. “I mean, you were a fucking handful when you first got here, but you came around. Finally figured your shit out.”

All Ellie could do was nod, choosing to let him keep talking. He had a tendency to do that, Ellie had noticed, and in some ways it made him endearing, in others… well, the months haven’t exactly _unmade_ him an asshole.

“So,” she began, elongating the word. “What’s cooking?”

His smile came back, a yellow-toothed grin that spelled how satisfied he was with his latest kill. “Something special. You’re gonna love it.” He turned off the heat, putting the frying pan on the cold side of the stove. He glanced towards her, waving for her to follow him. “Yours is already done. C’mon.”

Ellie followed silently, being seated down at a long table in the center of the restaurant. A silver platter was placed in front of the seat he indicated for her to sit in, covered with a lid. As she sat, he grabbed the handle on the lid, his finger shaking out of excitement.

“I call this one ‘Simmons á la Vengeance’,” he said, giving the final word a slight French accent to it. “Shitty fucking name, but you’ll see why.” He lifted the lid, revealing the contents that lied underneath.

She’d been expecting a grand platter of meats and vegetables from the garden, but what she found left her breathless, unable to move, as if paralyzed. The severed head was cooked, skin turning black and red, while the eyes looked… stared… into her soul. Golden orbs long since liquefied. Ellie jerked her head, trying to look away. Fingers clasped around her neck, keeping her head straight, unwavering from the sight of Clementine’s head. Fear and pain and death was all that she found staring back at her. Hair charred. The smell was still there, too, of rot and burnt flesh and hair, and it caused her stomach to churn, ready to spew at any moment.

She wouldn’t, though. Simmons’s breath warmed her cheek, a hint of a chuckle playing in his throat.

“You see, Ellie? I always win. I’ll take every fucking thing from you. And yes, I do mean everything.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “It’s a shame that you let her go. She might’ve lived had you not intervened. Could’ve convinced her to stay.” He let go of her neck, pushing away. “Now enjoy your meal, kid. It’s gettin’ cold.”

Without control, Ellie’s hand grabbed the fork next to her, digging into the head’s cheek. The skin peeled like chicken off a bone, and somehow managed to look like it too.

Piercing it with the fork, she took the bite.

—

Ellie awoke with a start, breathing heavily as she squirmed inside her sleeping bag. Sweat clung to her, only making her feel worse. Her brain was firing signals she couldn’t keep up with, images from the nightmare playing on repeat. Her eyes instantly went to Clementine’s sleeping bag on the other side of the camp, noticeably empty. Though, it only took a second to find her sitting against the base of a tree, eyes focused on something in her lap, and the world outside their little camp. She was alright. _Thank God._

Her head felt as if it would explode, and as she wriggled out of her bag, she pulled a bottle of water out of her backpack, taking a few swigs. Hopefully it’d help. 

The sun wasn’t up yet, though faint streaks of orange hung in the distance, like the glow of a massive fire far away. The world was warmer, too, leaving her to stuff her hoodie back into her backpack. Not having it irritating her still-sensitive skin around her tattoo helped tremendously.

Carl was the only other one awake besides her and Clementine, she noticed, and she gave him a curt nod as she dusted herself off and passed him by. 

—

Clementine liked it there, where the sun hardly touched. On her lap sat an opened book titled _Howl’s Moving Castle,_ parts of the page obscured by the long shadow of branches above. As the sun veered to light their camp, there came a girl casting hers.

She planted herself on the ground, against the tree opposite Clementine’s. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Ellie weakly called out to her. “Hey…”

“Hi, Elle,” Clementine greeted her back, too shy to _smile back_ as well. Too guilty to do much of anything but wince in pain. “Is it too late if… if I want to apologize, too?” She started, closing her book, and crossing her fingers she’d get to close another. “I shouldn’t have done it. That thing with the game. Wanted to get even, I guess…” Clementine lowered her gaze, so far away. “I’ll ask Lydia to say sorry too, if that helps.

“Then there’s… _everything else._ ” Her eyes followed Ellie’s frame all the way to her freckled nose, settling with the smallest hint of trust. “Can I make it up to you?” She asked, her voice loose and friendly. Warm enough for a smile to form.

“Just name your price. I’ll do anything.”

Ellie returned the smile meekly. “I just don’t want things to be like that again,” she admitted softly, eyes falling to the ground between them. “I want your last memories of me to be good ones.

“I’m sorry, too. For everything I said and did. I know I already hinted at it yesterday, but someone’s gotta say it.” A sharp inhale through the nose, she visibly relaxed. “You don’t owe me anything,” she continued, smirking. “Besides, Lydia’ll say she’s sorry before hell freezes over. Don’t think she’ll ever stop hating me. And… I guess, I’m okay with that. Not everyone has to like me.”

There was a brief pause, followed by a sigh. “I tried apologizing to her before. For the campfire thing. She… obviously didn’t accept it.”

“I’ll make her.” Clementine looked all smug for once. Maybe hanging out with Ellie again really _was_ rubbing off on her.

It wasn’t the same, though, was it? Hadn’t been that long either, but Ellie really came off different. Clem couldn’t decide what it was: the baggy clothes that made her look like a washed up rockstar; the short mess of red tied to the back of her head; how, even in the dark, she couldn’t pass for a little boy anymore—so strong and larger than life. Like she’d gotten tired of being the same age and... moved on, while everything else stayed the same. How strange it was, seeing Ellie, and seeing a woman. How brave she looked under the sun. 

Clementine looked at her and felt insecure. For the first time.

“So,” she blabbered on, prying her eyes away. “You wanna sit and watch the sun with me?”

Ellie didn’t hesitate. Pushing herself back to her feet, she set herself down next to her, crossing her legs and staring towards the horizon barely visible through the thicket. “When was the last time we did this?” Ellie asked quietly. “When we snuck into that little bell tower next to the church?”

“Well, you’re all about sneaking out of places. ‘Bout time we snuck _into_ one.” When Ellie shut her eyes, Clem’s amber drifted away from the sun, running far off to the side. Her side. She watched as if she wanted to memorize every little detail; the color of her lips, down to the wrinkle of her smile. Her heart was knocking at the door of her chest so freaking hard, Clementine couldn’t keep from getting caught staring. Maybe she wanted to be.

“It’s been so confusing lately,” she said, dodging Ellie’s eyes again. “I didn’t get my turn. So I wanna tell you some stuff.” 

Even now, she shared her feelings like a teenager, using a silly game as pretext. There was nothing wrong with that. At least, it hadn’t been a problem so far. Except, for some reason she’d go _mad_ trying to explain, Clem felt so childish saying it to Ellie. To her girlfriend, who hadn’t seemed to be for so long. The sun bathed Clementine in orange so fierce, you could miss the red that burned in her cheeks. She certainly hoped you would. _Breathe. And tell her._

She told her.

“I missed you. I missed you all the time. Like, even though you said _that._

“Especially ‘cause you said that.

“I… I _forgot_ what that was like. I _thought_ I was ready to let you go. Right...? But then I saw you with someone else, and… I freaked. I saw you and I thought… ‘ _I’m gonna be alone._ ’ I’m gonna be alone, and it’s all because I thought I was better off that way. But I wasn’t. I’m _not._ ”

She forced herself to look at Ellie. She looked at her, even though it made her lose the cool she never had. She stared at that green void and didn’t let go. “We only got a few days before I leave, and maybe I won’t come back. I could—I could **die,** or I could stay there, I don’t know, for **years** before I see you again.

“So, I want to say everything. I want to do everything.

“I love you.”

The most surprising thing, to Clementine, was how easy it was to say it. “I love you, I love you, I love you.

“And also...” She laughed her ugliest, most honest laugh. “Fuck you, Ellie.”

Despite how baffled Ellie had looked before, her last words made her snort, completely losing it in a fit of laughter barely contained enough to keep from waking the rest of the camp.

“Yeah… I had that coming,” Ellie finally managed to say, only then becoming aware of the fact her arm had already found itself laying against Clementine’s.

The girl’s head drifted down to lay on Clem’s shoulder, and Ellie spoke up once more. “I thought about you a lot, after the ranch. Lydia had my head all messed up after telling me about Kat. This was just a couple days after I saw you again. Felt like I was losing everyone around me. I did something stupid, got myself hurt. Tripp wouldn’t let me leave Jackson anymore. ‘Too important’, or some bullshit. Fucker only wants to hold onto his last chance at a cure.

“And I hated him for it, because eventually all those feelings started to fade, and I realized how much I’d fucked up. How much I wanted to march myself right back to your door and apologize, and realized that I couldn’t. I hated it.” Her face scrunched, bitter. “Maybe you would’ve told me to fuck off. I’d probably have deserved it. I don’t know. I just… Ever get those moments where you remember something you did like five years ago and cringe? It was like that, except every day.

“Now that we’re here,” she continued, voice raspy. “I just wish we’d had more time together. Is that selfish?” She shrugged lightly, biting her lip. She lifted her head, taking in a deep breath. “I just know that… even if it takes years, we’ll see each other again. I just know it.” She sounded so confident about it, too.

Her head shifting again, she planted a light kiss on Clementine’s cheek. “And, I love you, too.”

To Ellie, saying that again felt so strange, yet in equal measure, it filled her with warmth, the kind that’s all tingly and fuzzy and made you smile like you were just that stupid girl in Pittsburgh again. The kind of warmth that made her content to sit there forever.

—

_A few hours later_

The sun crested over the horizon, bathing the valley in warm light. The camp eventually went from dead quiet to the faint clatterings of breakfast and packing. Carl had a map spread across the dry side of the tarp he’d slept under the night before, pulled down and about ready to pack. Ellie strolled over with hands buried in her pockets, looking over the map.

Bending her legs to sit next to him, she pointed towards a city marked with a red X on it, near the center of Idaho. Pocatello. “Is that where we’re going?” she asked. 

Truthfully, Ellie had never really gotten up to speed with where they were going on this little expedition. She was too busy avoiding Lydia and Clementine. 

She scrunched her face, in thought, glancing towards the one-eyed boy next to her. “It’s pretty far. Looks like a lot of mountains and windy paths through here,” she said, indicating their most direct path. “Might have to circle around on the highway?” She phrased it like a question, knowing that Carl was the one that’d ultimately make the decision. At least, she was fine with that. He was probably the least crazy out of all of them. It’d take longer, but ultimately was safer and easier.

“Yep, that’s the plan,” Carl said. “It’s risky, but if there’s somewhere we can find supplies, it’s there.” He paused as he looked over the highway Ellie had pointed out. “I was also thinking about the highway. We’re definitely not ready for mountainous terrain. Problem is, we’ll take longer that way, and I don’t know if we even have enough supplies for that.” He placed his hands on his waist and stared at the map. “I just hope it’s worth it, or we might have to go even farther.” 

He had circled a few other places along the way, where they could maybe find supplies, just in case Pocatello ended up being a bust. A scrapyard, gas stations, a diner, places that had probably been swept long ago. 

“What do you say?” Carl asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Up for the challenge?”

“We’ll pass through Idaho Falls on the way. I know it’s been searched plenty of times, but chances are we could find some food there,” she said, pointing towards the city just a bit north of their intended location. “We might have to ration, but I think we’ll be okay. Just can’t get bogged down like yesterday.” She glanced towards him, a cocky smile on her face. “And I’m always up for a challenge.”

She picked herself up, moving to pack up her tarp and anything else she’d taken out of her backpack the night before. They didn’t have time to lose. Every once in a while, she could feel Lydia’s stare on her, but she chose to ignore it. Now wasn’t the time to piss her off, any more than she probably did last night.

Once everything was in order, she gave her horse a light scratching on the side of his muzzle, whispering “Good boy,” before climbing into the saddle. Nearby, Kat did the same, following Carl and the rest beside her back out into the open valley. As they trodded along, Ellie spoke up, pulling a spare hair out of her eyesight.

“Last night certainly got… interesting.” Understatement of the century. Her eyes found Clementine ahead, lingering. “I mean—I’m glad things turned out okay. For a while there, I thought we were all gonna kill each other.”

Kat let out a silent yawn, petting her borrowed horse gently. “Ha, yeah. I… totally—remember all that. The conversations we had, oh those were great.” She rubbed the tired out of her eyes, failing at sounding super confident about what she was saying. “I’m not gonna lie. I remember Lydia saying something probably rude to me, and some really cute stuff between you and Clementine… and, for some reason, the sky looked like the face of… a bear? I have no idea.” She shrugged, straightening up as she looked to her right, towards where Carl was slowing down to ride alongside them.

“Hey,” he started, and Kat gave him a silent wave and a welcoming smile. “I was wondering. How long have you been a Savior?”

Even Ellie could see the smile drop from a mile away. “Oh, uh—Right.” Kat said, stumbling over her words. “I’ve been there since this all started. I think I was… a few months old, a year? I can’t remember, really? But I do know that I have dealt with the Saviors since my first memory, if that paints a picture.”

Carl thought about that for a second. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to live in a place like that your whole life then get ordered to move to another place. You must have many good memories. How was your life back at the Sanctuary?”

Ellie would be a fool to not see what he was doing, but she supposed that he _had_ to, huh? If it made him like Kat, then she guessed she was alright with it. 

“It was like the average childhood…” Kat said almost bluntly, seeming to tense up just a bit as she fixed herself on the horse. Her blue hues flickered from the ground back to Carl. She… definitely wasn’t comfortable with this talk.

“We learned to survive like everyone else. Learned to handle weapons. First aid. You know, the important stuff kids should know during the end of the world. We did a lot of supply runs as we got older, I guess…? Lot of, uh… training, mainly? We were a community like any other. You had people who had your back, like my mom and dad, and people who made your life slightly more shitty.” She then laughed, a sarcastic chuckle more than anything. “Good memories… sure, ‘cause my life has been peachy. The move was bullshit. I left my mom behind for this shit, and look what it’s got me. Everyone hates me, and the Saviors that moved with me are bullshit.”

Ellie found herself speaking up, genuinely curious. “What’s your mom like?”

Having nothing but her dreams and a crumpled piece of paper to know her own mother, seeing what it was like for someone else was too powerful to resist.

Her voice must’ve caught her by surprise, as Kat nearly jumped out of her skin, her face suddenly turning slightly red. “My mom?” She asked. “She’s great, one of my favorite people. She’s smart, funny, all the right kinds of badass. She’s also strong, brave… She took risks while with the Saviors, and I applaud her for being able to do twice as much as someone expects from her while raising a child. And to do all of that, and then continue to power through alone. I—My mom has the strongest will of anyone I’ve ever met. She’s the best. And… I really… really just… want to make her proud. I don’t get to see her anymore. I miss her, and hope she’s doing alright on her own. She’s always had me to lean on when she needed it. And, everything I’ve learned, it came from her. I know she’s tough, and I’m supposed to be too, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like shit when she’s not here.”

Kat’s gaze fell away from Ellie to look forward, clearing her throat to try and wave off… how emotional talking about her mom was making her. It took a second, but eventually she found her smile again.

“She’s all I have left.”

“And has it always been like that?” Carl added, tilting his head. “With Negan at the front. You guys seem to like him as a leader. I’m kinda surprised you don’t all wear matching shirts with his face.”

_Oh, Carl. You… you really didn’t just go there…_

Kat’s gaze shot over to Carl so quick, Ellie expected her head to fly off. “Excuse me?” She asked, voice going shrill. “If you wanted to know all about my oh so great leader, you can ask him yourself. It’s funny to assume we all happily follow his orders. Do you think we hold hands and frolic as we run straight into people’s camps and take them over, slaughtering all that go against the word of the mighty Negan?! No, that’d be fucking stupid. You’re even dumber for asking it.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“I let the first two questions slide ‘cause I know when to not run my mouth about things,” Kat blasted through his rebuttal, “but I am not going to just give you the insight on everything Savior. Just because none of you guys care much for my life, doesn’t mean I don’t myself. So, instead of letting you run back to your boss and rat my sorry ass out, thus getting me in trouble with _my_ boss, I’d rather keep it to myself.

“I don’t have a death wish like you do, Carl. Negan isn’t someone you can get a little information about and take down. I’m not scared of a lot of things anymore, but him? He’s the monster living in your fucking closet, and this one is willing to kill you in your sleep for slipping up. I ask you, kindly, not to ask any more questions that have to do with him—Not as a loyal follower of that bastard… but as a human being just trying to survive.”

Honestly, Ellie wished that she could see the anger on her face. It must’ve been a sight to see.

She gave a small cue to her horse to move faster, leaving Ellie and Carl in the dust. Frowning, Ellie tried to catch up with her. If anything, to offer a comforting presence to be around, while maintaining her distance. At least, until Kat decided if she wanted her around.

Maybe she oughta see if she can get Kat and Clementine talking… though she still wasn’t sure if that was a good idea yet. But Carl definitely fucked up his chances to make a friendship with her. That one Ellie was certain of. She didn’t look back to see how he reacted, either.

But as for Clementine, guess time would tell.


	11. Lodge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll be the last chapter for the next few weeks to a month. The pharmacy I work at is starting COVID shots soon, and the sheer volume of shit we're already dealing with is practically driving me insane. Once things settle down a bit, I'll be back for more chapters :) Just bear with me <3 Keep an eye on on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/YourEverydayDot) for updates, most likely will tweet out once I'm about a week or two away from the next release.
> 
> Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy :) This one's quite a bit juicy.

Hours passed at a snail’s pace, the sun slowly moving from behind them to the far horizon, utterly blinding them in spots. The weather had warmed up nicely, with a faint breeze whistling through the trees. They’d skirted past a town called Victor, following a trail through the forest that eventually led them to a road that cut through the mountains, shaving off some precious time. By this time tomorrow, they oughta be a lot closer to Interstate Twenty-six, which would circle ‘em around towards Idaho Falls. For now, the mountains and hills loomed around them, covered in trees as far as the eye could see. 

A sign that led off the main road caught Ellie’s attention as they passed it, and she read it with a sigh of relief.

WEST PINEY LODGE CAMP

_ Thank god, a place we can have an actual roof over our heads. _

The idea was sparked, and they trodded down the road leading into the camp. A couple dozen minutes later, it came into view. A creek separated them from the camp itself, with a decaying bridge serving as their only way across. Parts of it were different colors, as if someone had patched it up and didn’t bother painting it. On the other side, cabins and administration buildings littered the area, most with their windows boarded up. Clothes hung on lines, left abandoned, and cars were left in strategic positions near the main bridge: a way out, and cover to hide behind in case anyone showed up.

Didn’t take a genius to figure out that someone had been living here before, but the place was deserted, thankfully. Or, at first, appeared to be.

After searching the first half of the camp, they found themselves near some sort of stage, with rows of seating built into the hill. Crudely drawn backgrounds dominated the stage, like some sort of… _play?_ _That’s what they’re called, right?_ Ellie urged her horse to stop, dismounting.

“Well, there’s certainly worse places to stay,” she called out to the group. “Maybe we should split up? Search the rest of the cabins?” She’d directed that towards Carl, knowing that Lydia would make an issue with it if she tried to give her orders. Better to just make suggestions instead.

They didn’t exactly have an even number of people either, so Kat would have to come with her and Clementine. She didn’t trust Lydia around her.

“How about you just wait a second?” came Lydia’s response, monotone to the core. Already, she was peering through her binoculars, laying out the land.  _ Oh sorry, am I now being  _ **_too_ ** _ useful for you now? Who’s the one that’s gone across the whole country, doing this every day? _ Ellie found herself thinking, rolling her eyes. “I’d rather deal with the company up ahead.” The blonde lined up her horse next to Carl’s, passing him the binoculars so he could have a look too.

That feeling of anger Ellie had, however, didn’t last long, as her attention diverted to what had gotten Lydia’s. There was a massive building at the other end of the camp, which appeared to be some kind of old lodge. A swing was located at the bottom of the hill, as well as a red staircase that led upwards, directly next to a worn out slide. From this distance, they were hard to make out, but Ellie knew walkers when she saw them. The faint croaking of a clicker only made things worse.

Her hand was already wrapped around the hilt of her machete, letting go only to tie the reins of her horse around a nearby tree. Hopefully the fighting won’t spook them off. 

With that, she unsheathed the blade, awaiting the order to attack. Next to Carl, where she’d caught up to them, Kat unsheathed her hunting knife, narrowing her eyes to try and make out the dead.

Carl dismounted his horse, readying his knife as well. “I don’t wanna split until we have an idea of what’s inside those cabins. Let’s take care of the clicker first. Ellie, I think that machete of yours should be enough. I’ll be next to you with my knife, just in case. Lydia, Kat, and Clem, stick behind us in case you have to shoot.” He nodded at Ellie, and she nodded back with some hesitance, palms sweating as she mentally prepared herself for the attack.

“What did you say…?” Kat asked, voice much lower than usual. Ellie gave her a passing glance as she stammered on. “T—That’s hilarious. I must still be buzzed, because I swear you just said… C—Clicker.” The girl’s smile looked about ready to fall as she peered towards the infected, a nervous laugh slowly but surely fading out. “Oh, god. I’m doomed, aren’t I…?”

Okay, so Ellie was going to have to keep an eye on Kat.  _ Noted. _ “Okay, okay…” Ellie took in a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

The walkers were too busy gnawing on whatever they’d gotten their hands on to notice their approach, leaving just the clicker for them to deal with for the time being. Ellie moved silently, eyes darting between the clicker and the ground to ensure she didn’t step on anything noisy. The closer she got, the faster her heartbeat, machete held at the ready in case the clicker managed to hear her. When she’d gotten within range, holding her breath, she swung the blade down its head.

It collided with the fungal plates covering its face, burying itself within. The clicker let out a surprised screech, and Ellie’s grip on the machete loosened as it jerked its head, ripping the blade out of her grip. Cursing, she went for her knife, burying it into its cranial plates several times while holding it at arm’s length with her free hand. Finally, she managed to pierce the brain, killing it.  _ Damn it, should’ve gone for the chest. _

It collapsed on the ground with a muted thud, the noise from the walker’s meal covering it up. She ripped the machete out of the clicker’s face, sheathing it, then swiveled towards the dead, letting out a sigh of relief when she realized they hadn’t seen or heard her yet.

They still had time to work out a plan for them.

There were eight walkers, and five of them, meaning a few of them would have to double up. Ellie indicated for the rest of her group to follow her, and pick a walker on their side of the corpse. If they were lucky, they could take out half of them before the rest could even get to their feet.

Together they went, knives at the ready, as Ellie’s gaze hyperfocused on her target. When she drew within footsteps, a twig snapped underneath her foot, causing the walker she’d chosen to look away from its meal and towards her with a hungry growl. It had black hair, and a patchy goatee, a massive cut splitting its face and nose in half, yet hadn’t managed to hit the brain. Ellie’s eyes went wide, a sudden fear seizing her, if only for a moment.

Instincts took over, and she jammed the knife into its temple, hard enough to pierce skin and bone. Kicking the walker back towards their feast, she prepared herself for her next kill, while the others dispatched their own.

“FUUUUCK!” Lydia’s cries distracted Ellie, eyes darting towards the girl, and the massive corpse laid out on top of her. That moment of distraction, though, allowed another walker to latch onto her, sending them both toppling to the ground, her knife disappearing into the grass. Cursing, she tried to send the walker rolling off of her, taking in a heavy breath as she managed to flip them.

“Fuck you!” She shouted, grabbing for her pistol and smashing it against the walker’s forehead, hard enough to break through. It took several tries. Face covered in blackened blood, she pushed herself to her feet, just in time to hear the growls of another walker approaching her.

Lifting her machete, it buried itself into the walker’s arm, the strength behind her attack sending the walker tumbling to the side, with her weapon.  _ Jesus fuck, give me a fucking break— _ Another walker latched onto her back, and she was forced to fire a bullet through its skull, kicking it backward to keep it from taking her with it.

Disoriented, she rushed towards the other walker quickly, ripping the machete out and holding it down with her boot. She swung the machete like a golf club, narrowly missing its face. Instead, she sent its nasal bones flying through the air, before she cursed and tried again, sending the rest of its mushed-up head with it.

Sheathing her machete, then her discarded knife, she rushed towards Clementine and Lydia, dropping to her knees next to the blonde. Clementine leapt down from her horse, joining her. “Alright,” Ellie breathed, heavily. “On three, we push.”

“J—Just stop, I can do it myself…” Lydia was mumbling, quick and breathless. Ellie ignored her, eyes meeting Clementine’s.

Clementine was the one to answer Lydia. “We got you,” she said, placing her hands against the walker.

Ellie counted down, shouting the word “Three!” before putting every ounce of strength she had left to getting that walker off of Lydia.

The hulking monster rolled off her body, and as soon as Lydia could breathe properly, she scrambled backwards, on the verge of hyperventilation. She sat there, looking back at Ellie and Clementine, eyes wide like she was caught in headlights.

With her jacket gone, clutched by a dead walker nearby, Lydia only wore a tank top. Old scars pockmarked her body from the wrist up to her shoulder, covering both arms, and leaving barely any room for much skin to show. The skin around the scars were discolored, and blemishes could also be seen on her chest just below the neck, marks that were much too severe to properly fade away. They were  _ everywhere _ , and as Ellie began to tear her eyes away, Lydia’s own filled with tears.

“Get away…  **I said get the fuck away from me!** ” She sobbed, her head drooping to look at the ground. Not daring to meet their eyes again.

Clementine’s mouth twisted upward in shock, baring her teeth whole. But, as Kat’s voice rang out nearby, terrified and begging for help, Clementine reached for the spear tied around her horse and urged it to trot back, leaving Lydia and Ellie on their own.

Ellie quickly picked herself up. She didn’t have time to focus on anything but making sure they were all safe, so if Lydia was self-conscious about her scars, she’d leave her to them. While Carl was left to deal with the last walker Clementine took out the one threatening Kat with a lunge of her spear, buying time for Ellie to drop next to the girl lying on the ground.

“Hey,  **hey** , you alright?” She’d never seen her so frightened. Honestly, Kat seemed so chill all the time, she half-expected nothing could ever bother her. Kat didn’t seem to notice them, her hands too busy entangling in her hair and yanking as hard as she could without pulling it out entirely. Ellie placed a hand on the girl’s cheek, moving her head, if only to make sure there weren’t any bites on her. Nothing she could see, anyway. That had gotten Kat’s attention, eyes wide with panic. “Everything’s okay. Carl’s got the last one, okay? C’mon, let me help you up.” She pulled away, holding out her hand for Kat to take.

Instead, Kat began to shake and tighten her hands into the ground below her. A slow, steady stream of tears followed. She looked as if she’d seen a ghost, her skin being much paler than it previously was. “I… Is it gone…? Are you sure it’s gone…? Please, promise me it’s not coming back—”

“Where’s Lydia?” Clementine cut in, the arch of her brows giving away the frustration in her whisper. “D’you just leave her there?”

Hand closing, empty as can be, as Kat wiped away her tears and looked towards the dead clicker nearby, Ellie pushed herself back to her feet, glancing back towards the girl in question. Her voice emotionless, she treaded back the way she came. “She’s fine.” And clearly, she was. Yet, as Ellie pulled out her machete once more, her gaze took in the camp around them, waiting to see if anything else would pop out to attack them.

Kill two birds with one stone. Keep her distance from Lydia, since that’s so clearly what she wanted, and protect her all at the same time.

As Carl finished off the last walker, and no more made themselves known in their surroundings, Ellie finally saw fit to relax, sheathing her machete once more. Carl’s voice rang out over the camp. “Everyone’s okay?” Ellie watched as he approached Lydia, extending a hand to help her get up. “It’s over.”

All Lydia did was glare at his hand with puffy, misted eyes. She tilted her neck upwards, sending those infamous angry glares right at his face, with nothing but a filthy scowl to offer before swatting his hand away, choosing to stand up herself. She quickly dried her tears, turning her back on the one-eyed boy.

Straight away, Lydia’s attention shifted in the direction of her crimson-soaked hoodie nearby. Hugging herself, she lumbered over to it, kneeling down. She pouted at the sight, realizing her jacket had been torn to shit.

So, Ellie approached Lydia with quick steps, taking off her backpack to dig inside, then held out her jacket for the blonde to take. “Here.”

She, herself, was soaked in blood. The feeling of the drying liquid on her face made her scrunch her nose, about ready to itch at it. Yet, she resisted, continuing to hold out the jacket, even when Lydia’s eyes refused to meet hers, finding the jacket in her hand instead. 

She hesitated, long enough for Ellie to consider backing off, but the blonde reached out with a trembling hand to take it. The jacket slipped on over her tank top, and she wordlessly stared at her own feet, holding one arm in the other, probably hoping everyone’s attention would turn elsewhere.

Luckily for her, the moment that jacket left her hand, Ellie had more important things to do. With Carl and Lydia together, and Clementine with Kat, Ellie was the one left to check the lodge. As she clambered up the steps, onto its porch, she knocked on the door with the hilt of her machete. It didn’t take long for a pounding to emanate from the other side of the door. Two bangs, one after another… a single walker. She took a step back, pulling the door open, before descending the steps onto solid ground.

The walker emerged, snapping its jaws hungrily. Thinner than its counterparts, Ellie made short work of it, slicing the walker’s head off, stabbing through its skull once it landed on the ground.

Standing at the threshold, she heard silence within. That was a good sign.

As the others gathered themselves, Ellie went back to her horse, tying it to the fence surrounding the porch. Knife clutched in her hand, she searched the house, finding nothing but empty rooms. The air was stale, the stench of the undead filling the bottom floor like a bad omen. She ignored it. They had more pressing stuff to deal with.

Emerging from the building, she waved the others to her. “Place’s clear. C’mon.”

She silently hoped this place would have something for her to change into. Her white shirt was drenched red, wet and sticky and cold. Worst case scenario, she’ll just have to wash it out in the creek. Better stained red than covered in it.

Everyone eventually made their way inside the lodge, settling in, while Ellie stood near the door. As Clementine passed, Ellie sent her an apologetic gaze, for getting snappy earlier. Though the moment lasted hardly a second. 

Lydia retreated down a random corridor without haste, slamming a door behind her, and as Kat entered last, she shut the front door behind them. At least, for now, they wouldn’t have Lydia to deal with, and they could rest before checking out the rest of the camp. And Ellie could find some clean clothes.

She wasn’t sure which one sounded better.

* * *

This place still had a surprising amount of shit left over. They’d found enough food to last them another day, which definitely helped given how little progress they’d made the day before. Kat had found a couple bullets for her gun and a cool gas mask shaped like a plague one from the…  _ it was a really long time ago, I think? Thirteen-hundreds? Fourteen-hundreds? Whatever. _ Clementine had found a whole stash of bullets, or at least nearing a dozen, so their gun situation was looking better. Ellie’s find of the day had been a white t-shirt with a girl on it, devil’s horns and a floating crown over her head. That and some hoodie with a shield on it, a star in the center. Better than nothing, since she’d given hers away. But the real find…? A bar of fucking soap. How much she missed that already from living in Jackson.

Now, she had that t-shirt laid out next to her in the grass, just far enough away that she wouldn’t splash it by accident.

Her mind drifted, thinking back to that nightmare, each passing image forcing her to stop for a second, lest she get soap in her eye. She hated feeling like this, like she was being haunted. Haunted by her past, definitely, but at least ghosts weren’t really real, right? 

_ Right? _

Then there was the walker earlier, and how similar it looked to that asshole. Had she hesitated any longer, someone could’ve gotten hurt. Knowing that, and what already happened, letting herself freeze wasn’t an option anymore. What if a walker grabbed Clem and she couldn’t…?  _ Fuck, just… stop thinking about it. _

Leaning towards the surface of the creek ahead of her, she splashed the water in her face, trying her best to scrub away the dried blood, before trying with the soap. Eventually, her skin felt clearer… it just took a few times to get there.

The sun was inbound for the valley behind the moss-green hills. Clem wished she could follow it there, over the rainbow. When the girl by the creek caught her footsteps along the grass, Elle sprung up like a grasshopper, letting that bar of soap slip right out of her hands. “Hey, Clem,” Ellie said, cleaning her throat. “Hey, bunhead,” she said back. Something was up. No biggie or nothin’... just that bolt of lightning in her chest. The type that struck when Ellie smiled at her, looking so damn pretty. Her own look? It had to’ve been of a fool with a fly catcher for a mouth.

Ellie did what Ellie does, and jumped at the chance to break the silence. “H—How’s everyone?” 

“I don’t know. Bad, I guess,” Clementine admitted, small sympathy in her eyes. “No one likes getting bloody.

“That coming out alright, by the way?” Her head tilted slightly to the side, like every other time she set her mind to something. That cozy sundown, slow to approach, Ellie’s hair looked just a tiny bit redder.

Frowning, Ellie’s eyes drifted towards her crimson-stained hair, looking about ready to itch at it. “Haven’t tried yet. You’d caught me before I could bathe.” She shrugged, sighing. “We got lucky with the soap. Don’t think it’d come out otherwise.”

Clem let out a soft hum, allowing thoughts to evaporate into words. “You were… pretty cool. Back there.”

“Thanks,” Ellie smiled, continuing in a half-hearted tone. “Tripp had us training like crazy to join the supply team. If you can’t protect yourself, you can’t go out. Guess that’s  _ something _ .”

“Show me a move sometime.” Clementine widened her smirk. “You  _ are _ the older one. You have to… I don’t know,  _ pass on your teachings _ . Like in those kung fu movies.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Pfft. What more could I teach you that you haven’t already learned before we even met.” Still, she beamed her a smile leaking with sarcasm. “Nevertheless, I accept you as my apprentice. We train at dawn.”

“I know the perfect spot,” Clem answered with confidence. “You down to check the lodge? Might be something in there to help you wash.” She lifted her chin up, arms crossed, returning Ellie’s sarcastic smile with one of her own. “Hm, that place is so old, though… might actually smell more than you do.”

Pushing herself to her feet, she grabbed her spare shirt carefully, tucking it back into her backpack. Better than getting it covered in blood while they searched for whatever it was Clementine needed to ‘help her’. Hopefully a bucket. Not easy washing hair in a two inch deep creek.

“Great! Just don’t tell me I smell again. The Sensei doesn’t like that.” She couldn’t make herself seem serious saying that out loud.

“I’ll try, Elle.”

They took to the big scary cabin no one had called dibs on. You’d have to be crazy to sleep somewhere like that anyway. Place was probably haunted by whoever lived there. Clem went in first, opening the old front door with her good hand. She tried to imagine what it looked like before: Tables loaded with dinner plates, the smell of food ushered on past the window. Bright yellow lights shining across the wooden floor, before it was infested with termites. It gave Clementine all the courage she needed to light a flashlight on and explore. “Hope you guys cleared it good...”

That cabin, mixed with the company she kept, brought Ellie back to a worse time. Like a demon hiding in your periphery, waiting to attack you again. The interior was pitch black, save for the little bits of dusty furniture you could see from Clementine’s flashlight. And, it wasn’t just getting dark in that place, it was getting quiet, too. Their footsteps creaked on aging wood, and Clementine followed along the walls to where they led. And where it led was… somewhere interesting.

“There’s a big hole there. You see it?” Clementine asked. Not on the wall, like you’d think, but on the floor. A big chunk of empty space dividing the hallway in two. Wasn’t that deep, though. The real issue was all the mud at the bottom. Ellie eyed the gap, judging the distance. They’d need a helluva jump. Seemed almost easier to just trudge through the hole, but who knew what was down there. Snakes? Mice? Both?  _ Pfft. No. The snakes would’ve eaten them already, dummy. _

Anyone else would’ve turned back. But anyone else wouldn’t have been looking for the bucket lying on its side, drowned by a thick layer of sludge, and easy to reach for if you could do it from across.

Assuming you could jump it.

Clem, she had the voice of someone dreading the thought. “Wanna rock-paper-scissors for it?”

Ellie smiled at the offer of a timeless classic. “Oh, you’re so going to lose.”

A count of three later, they let loose, Clementine coming in hot with a clenched fist, and Ellie with the flat hand. A silent ‘yes!’ left her as she returned her gaze to the hole.

“Alright, well… I’ll be right here. Make sure you don’t sink into the mud and all that.” She dared a smile, taking several steps back to allow the girl room.

“Asshole,” said her girlfriend, who got Ellie to chuckle like the asshole she was.

Clementine pulled at the brim of her hat, to make sure it didn’t fly away on its own. She took the needed steps back, leaned forward, and bolted down the hallway. Her boot planted on the floor an inch before the ledge, jumping all the way across the gap. Though her chest landed before her arms, Clementine held on, climbing up the edge. “I got it!”

She turned around, reaching into the hole to pull the bucket up from where it lay buried. “Gonna jump back now, okay?” Now she just had to repeat those steps, and Ellie would watch to make sure she didn’t get hurt in the process. No sweat.

That was, until said landing came, and Clementine nearly lost her footing. She wobbled, balance going whack. Ellie reached out to try and stop her from falling into the hole, but the girl’s backward momentum proved too much. Cursing, Ellie found herself yelping as they fell in. Clementine let go of the bucket—or maybe the bucket let go of her, at this point Ellie couldn’t tell which was which—and it fell to the muddy ground next to them, spilling its contents. The two girls, however, landed straight into the mud.

Groaning, Ellie tried to push herself up, but the mud made it difficult to even move. Instead, her face was filled with the fabric of Clementine’s shirt, over what she assumed was the girl’s stomach. Coughing, realizing that the girl’s knee had collided with her own stomach, Ellie croaked out for her girlfriend. “Clem? You okay?” The ballcapped girl took the brunt of the fall, though maybe the mud hadn’t been all that bad.

If it was anything like what Ellie had felt through the force of Clementine’s knee, then maybe not.  _ Fucking ow. _

“Oh,  _ ew _ ,” came her girlfriend’s response, a bit busy spitting out mud to say all that much else. With a loud, unearned chuckle, eventually she did. “Hey, can you move? You’re kinda on top of me.”

“I’m  _ trying _ ,” Ellie stressed through a wheeze, deciding to stop trying to push herself to her feet and instead use the jagged edge of the wooden hole. Carefully. It worked, if only to place her knees into the mud. Too bad about not getting those jeans dirty. Pushing herself to her feet, she set herself down on the edge, holding out her hands to help Clementine up.

“If anyone asks, this never happened.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I so wanted to tell Lydia all about it.” Clem, keeping her laugh in check, didn’t hesitate to grab Ellie’s hand in the least.

So they were holding hands again now… that—that was a thing.

They were absolutely covered in mud, too, from head to toe. Turns out the only monsters down there were the two of them. “Can we go use that bucket now,” Clem said, and Ellie had never been one to argue with her. voice insisting to get the heck out of there.

It wasn’t a long walk—unfortunately—back to the creek. Ellie took the bucket and filled it with water, splashing it out, in hopes of cleaning out the remaining mud in there. It flowed downstream in brown clumps, disappearing into the forest. Eventually, it was clean enough to use. She filled it up with water, placing it next to the creek as she sat down. Well, her jeans were already ruined anyway, so maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. She’d just have to leave them out to dry later, when she finally had the privacy of her own room for the night.

“I’ll help you clean up after,” Ellie said, looking towards the muddy girl next to her. She’d kill for the showers back home right about now. Clementine indicated for her to lay out, so she could wash her hair, and Ellie did as she was told, looking towards the gray sky above.

Her girlfriend’s jersey lay next to the other pile of dirty clothes, begging to be tossed into a river. With the sun gone, Clem pointed out, the red in Ellie’s auburn hair had all but left with it. Chunks of mud and blood, woven into brown streaks. Clem ran her fingers through the roots of her hair all the way down to the ends, working from top to bottom. Always gentle.

The water was  _ fucking cold _ , but she tried her best not to squirm. Instead, choosing to voice the demons that’ve been bothering her all day. Perhaps it was finally time to just… talk about it. Bottling it up this past year hadn’t done much good for her…

Sighing, hair soaked through with water and a small amount of soap, she glanced towards Clementine above her. “I, uh… I keep having dreams. About Simmons.”  _ Great start, Ellie. Excellent segue. _ “About what he did to us. To you, and Lee, and… what he was gonna do to me.” She shivered, and not from the cold.

“I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in I don’t know how long?” She continued, eyes drifting. “The dreams keep coming, and they’re all different, but he’s always in them. Doing something  _ worse _ than the one before. It’s like the fucker’s haunting me from the grave.”

She fell silent, closing her eyes. Somehow, he was still there, vivid as the day she’d killed him. A monster in a man’s body, lip missing and bleeding. She opened her eyes again, trying to relax her muscles, to no avail. “He tried to—” She choked. “And I—Fuck. I just… I  _ bit his lip off _ , Clementine. I fucking—”

“I just want him to leave me the  **_fuck_ ** alone.” Bitterness seeped into her tone, vile like poison. She rubbed at her eyes, then, roughly. “It’s over. I  _ know _ he’s gone. But, I just… I can’t—”

She stopped then, feeling like she’d said too much. These thoughts had been lingering for so long, they felt like they’d made a permanent residence in her mind. She fucking hated him. She hated him so much that she wished he was here now, just so she could  _ kill him again _ .

Worst of all, she hated that she felt that way. She closed her eyes again, hoping that her hair would soon be clean. At least, then, she could make herself useful.

“Lee would tell me… ‘It’s just a bad dream.’” Clementine’s words were deliberate, like each required her utmost attention. She rinsed Ellie’s hair, squeezing out drops of excess water. “I have those all the time.”

Her hands couldn’t quite stop in one place, even as she fought her way through the words.  “You know what I do? I… I don’t think about it. And… sometimes it’s harder than that. Sometimes I can’t.

“But I know it’s easier when you’re around.”

She shook those hands of hers, leaving tiny droplets to flitter through the air, as Ellie returned to her knees, looking out into the darkish-red water flowing downstream. “So… you can come to me, if you’re scared.” Clementine, sudden as she was, hugged Ellie from behind, crossing her arms around her chest like an unbreakable shield. “I’ll do this. Whenever you need.”

_ What about when you’re gone? _ She wanted to ask that, but she knew better. Was it wrong that she didn’t feel any different? Clementine was trying, and Ellie loved her for it, but a problem like this wouldn’t just… go away. 

“Thinking too much has always been my weakness,” she said, sighing. “But someone once told me that stuff like this is just… rocks… weighing you down. Drowning you.” She let out a single, dry chuckle. “Funny. I don’t even know how to swim. No wonder it’s so easy.”

Hands clasping around arms, squeezing them, Ellie wriggled out of her grip, allowing Clementine to take her place. Time for  _ her _ to play hairdresser.

“You know it goes both ways, right?” She said, lathering her hands in soap. “I’ll always be here for you. And I, uh… kinda miss the old days. The sleepovers. Having you there just… always made me feel safer. I’d do that for you, too. If I could.”

She fell silent, if only for a moment. Thoughts bubbled to the surface: anger and grief, guilt and regret, love and warmth, so many conflicting things that mixed together into a single, anxious feeling.

“I don’t like feeling helpless,” she said, nearly a mumble as she gently worked through Clementine’s curly hair, taking care not to let her fingers catch and pull. No one was getting hurt today. “I don’t like knowing that my actions hurt someone I care about. I’m—I’m not letting that happen again.” She knew for a fact that she was letting it happen again, purely by letting Clementine leave Jackson on her own. 

She didn’t voice that fact.

“The next time I see a Simmons out there, I’m pulling the trigger,” she vowed.

“Me too,” Clementine answered, though she didn’t sound half so sure. The cold water running down her neck made her fight and flinch, like a fussy child. But she dealt with it, with her knees and elbows huddled together to put up with the chill. “I like how I feel now, though.”

Since when was Clementine the one making things mushy? Ellie smiled, a lopsided thing, while massaging the soap through the girl’s hair one last time. At least Clementine couldn’t see it. She was tired of looking stupid.

“Oh yeah?” She asked, voice warm. “What’s that?” She knew the answer, but if Clem was gonna be a sap for five minutes, she might as well tease her for it.

Ellie could only see the back of her ears turn rosy, no hair to hide them behind. “Uh…” Clem watched the creek flow right under her toes, keeping the entire deck of cards close to her chest. Though her giggle certainly betrayed her. “You know.”

All the horrible things forgotten, Ellie couldn’t help herself from smiling deviously. She liked seeing Clementine so flustered; it was a rare thing. Then again, so were moments like these. Even more so now.

Hair as clean as could be, she leaned in from behind her, her mouth near the girl’s ear. 

“Do I?” she asked.

Pulling away, pushing herself to her feet, she circled around Clem, dropping to her knees in front of her. Funny how, even on their knees, Ellie still towered over her a couple inches. Yet, it was hard not to notice that Clementine had grown a little since she was kicked out. Guess time  _ really was _ a thing. Leaning in, she planted a kiss on the girl’s forehead.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Clementine rubbed timidly at where Ellie had kissed, holding on to the smile that she probably didn’t fancy sharing. “Okay, that’s enough,” grumbled the tired girl, “…or I’m  _ gonna _ push you.”

_ Fair enough. _ She chuckled at the girl’s response, shaking her head. “Buzzkill,” she said playfully, pushing herself to her feet, dusting herself off. Returning to the shore, she slipped on her socks and shoes once more, thankful that some part of her outfit wasn’t soaked through. At least she still had the spare shirt.

The sky was turning shades of orange and black, the sun disappearing beneath the mountains. She was just happy they had the light long enough to finish up. “Alright, um… guess it’s time for me to go change. This shirt feels  _ fucking horrible _ .” Slinging her backpack over her shoulders, she looked towards Clementine again, for a second too long.

She broke the eye contact, smiling as she playfully saluted with two fingers. “See ya later, Ballcap. Thanks for the, uh, pep talk. And everything else.”

Awkwardly, she began to trudge back through the field, towards the lodge. Some small part of her felt disappointed, but that’s just how things were, wasn’t it?

_ Alright, focus. We still got a long road ahead of us. _

* * *

Getting her hair to dry took a while without a towel. Instead, she’d used some shirt she’d found earlier that was much too small for her to wear, speeding up the process a bit. Now in clean clothes, and a pair of shorts she’d overlooked before—to allow her jeans to dry—she returned downstairs. Here, massive windows gave almost picturesque views of the camp, the hills and mountains, and ultimately, an easy way to make sure nothing was coming up on them. 

She found Kat sitting in a rocking chair near one corner of the room, and Ellie waved gently as she approached.

“Hey… You doing okay?” She asked, quietly, before taking the lounge chair next to her. After her freak-out earlier, Ellie couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t check up on her. She’d done the same thing for her once, a long time ago.

“Huh…?” Kat had perked up at Ellie’s voice, drawing her attention from her book, which she happily closed and re-stored in her bag. That was, until the realization dawned on her as to why Ellie was there, her welcoming smile dropping to one of embarrassment. “Oh, uh. Yeah. I guess I’m doing a bit better. Sorry for choking up on you guys.” She leaned on her hand, the chair quietly creaking as it swayed ever so gently along with her.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay,” she said, knowing that she sounded ridiculous. “I mean—I totally get it.”

Relaxing into the chair, she ran a hand through her hair, mentally preparing herself to talk about this  _ once again _ . “There was a walker out there. Looked like someone I knew. It almost got me, too.” She smiled then, hoping it’d help. “Then I thought about everyone else, and I knew what to do.

“So don’t apologize, okay…?” She continued, breathing in. “I know what it’s like. I know what you’ve been through.” She didn’t want to pry too much. She remembered Kat’s story about her ex, who left her to die with a bunch of clickers, and the thought of it was enough to make her blood broil.

“And, um, if you ever wanna talk about it, I’m always here for you.”

Kat’s eyes seemed to scan Ellie as she spoke, her expression unreadable, dull. As Ellie spoke of her own issues, Kat looked away, over at the window. “The past has a funny way of sneaking up on you. I guess we both have rocks we’re struggling to swim with.” She forced out a laugh, looking back towards Ellie as she let her smile drop once more. 

“I think I’m more curious on if  _ you’re _ okay or not. Talking is a two way game,” she said, straightening up to get a better look at Ellie.

Ellie nodded once, smile faltering. “I’m okay,” she assured, though not that convincingly. Thinking about Simmons had its ways of breaking down her mental barriers, though everything she’d said before helped… in a way. “I’ve gotten to talk about it, recently. It’s… a lot to take in.”

She smiled, then, a sardonic thing. “The past is a bitch, ain’t it?”

The girl stifled a laugh, shaking her head. “Tell me about it. The present isn’t too pleasant either. Maybe if we’re lucky, we can have a better future.

“Heh, the second I get the chance, I’d love to leave everything behind and live somewhere like this. You can’t tell me the view isn’t gorgeous,” Kat said, nodding towards the horizon with a smile. “I could argue the light leaves a nice glow on your smile, too. Glad to see you get to have one, E. You worked hard for your girl.”

“I’m right there with you, K. Place like this… besides the infected we had to deal with, it’s… calming. Nothing like home.” She’d be tempted to live here if they weren’t so far away from everything. Having electricity was nice, too.

When Kat brought up Clementine, Ellie couldn’t help but smile wider. Was it that obvious…? “Yeah…” She breathed, eyes trailing towards the window. “I’m gonna miss her. When she’s gone. It’s hard to think about that part of it, but I can’t forget that this’s only temporary.

“Some small part of me knows we’ll see each other again, but… I just… hope it won’t be too long, yeah? Life has a funny way of surprising you, though. Both good and bad.”

“She’ll come back.” Kat said it like she truly believed it. If only Ellie could share in some of that optimism. “You found a good one, and… that’s rare these days. With everything that happened, you’re still working out. Not many people get a chance like that.

“You mess up once, and it’s all over. And sometimes, no matter how hard you try… and try… nothing happens. Nothing comes out of all your work to maintain your relationship, and they leave you for some… prick so into himself that he might as well have fucking married his reflection.

“And you sit and wonder for months on months what you did wrong—And how do I fix it…? And will she ever take me back, or am I not good enough? And… and if it’s not my fault, then did she ever actually love me? Maybe she was confused when it happened, and she has yet to find time to talk to me…?

“I—Ahem… What I mean, is… this hypothetical situation didn’t happen to you… cause you… you made it. You found someone who gets you…” Kat seemed to force a smile, looking away from them just long enough to wipe away a tear that was likely trying to escape her eye.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Kat was talking about her ex. Hearing about it, it made her heart sink. Kat didn’t deserve to be treated so callously. She tried to smile back, although weakly. “Well, clearly they don’t see what they’re missing out on.”

With that, she stood up, patting the girl’s shoulder before pulling away. There was still much to do before bedtime, and Ellie wasn’t sure if there was much more she could do  _ here _ . Knowing that Kat was okay, at least a little bit, set her mind at ease.

Now they just had to keep it that way, for however long this journey takes.

* * *

With each second that passed, it felt like the flow of time was gradually slipping away into a pit of uncertainty. Minutes felt like hours, or did the hours feel like minutes? Either way, Lydia had given up on trying to keep track.

The peculiar scent of a dusty carpet lingered in her nose, smelling how it looked: like a rundown room with worn out fixtures and fittings. It bore a striking resemblance to the place she had in Jackson. Unlike that one, there was no peace of mind here, taking into account the several other people who were under the same roof.

A nauseating sense of claustrophobia was coming back, like the air was getting humid and dry, anxious that she’d start choking with every breath. Last time she recalled this sensation was in Andrea and Carl’s house. When the girl was too scared to turn those corners, knowing that woman would be there, watching her like a hawk. Worried that the Whisperer girl was going to corrupt her ‘precious Carl’. She never had to say it… but Lydia knew.

Eventually, sitting down in dead silence became too much. That was when she finally retreated to the bathroom, half a bottle of water and a rag in hand. Reluctantly so, she found the mirror, a rusted out sink straight below it which she used to place down the items.

Both hands outstretched, they gripped either side of the sink, using it as support as she leaned forward. Lydia’s head dipped, taking a moment to compose herself with a big breath. Then, she forced herself to look.

Her blonde was now part crimson, hair messy in the reflection, eyes still looked a bit red from earlier, but parts of her face were  _ much _ redder, courtesy of walker blood. Least she could do was get it off.

As she fumbled with the water bottle, only then did she realize how badly her hands were still shaking. Bad enough to make twisting a lid feel like the most impossible task in the world. Until it popped off, falling to the ground, a hollow  _ click _ echoing across the tiles as she watched it roll away.

She set the bottle aside after dabbing the rag in some water. Looking down at the hand that held the piece of cloth. The trembles were getting worse.  _ Don’t do this. Not now. _

The teenager closed her eyes, quickly grabbing her wrist in an effort to steady it. Breathing was the key, wasn’t it? Slowly, through deep inhales, she placed the wet rag to her cheek, wiping away the blood stain.

Working her way down the neck, she peeled back Ellie’s jacket far enough that her shoulder were exposed, cleaning off the gore that had trickled under.

Every second in the mirror was agonizing, as was resisting the urge to tear her eyes away from her own reflection. The thudding in her chest became harder, as did the scrubbing on her shoulder, like the two were in complete sync. Blood disappeared to make way… not for clean, healthy skin. But the sight she dreaded most. Those disfiguring marks that clung to her like a lifelong curse. Ones that the rest had now seen.

A cold shockwave shot through her body, she hated staring at them, so much… yet, she didn’t stop, she couldn’t. Lydia’s poker face, within a matter of minutes, began to crumble. Harder and harder, she rubbed at skin that was already clean. Her face was scrunching up, eyes beginning to burn, a mixture of grunting and whimpering.

_ “Cry.” _

“No,” Lydia whispered back through gritted teeth, short and panicked breaths leaving her. The rag wasn’t working, so she scraped away at the scars even harder.

_ “You can’t get rid of us, neither can you live as one of  _ **_them._ ** _ You know you can’t.  _ **_So cry,_ ** _ Lydia.” _

Dropping the rag to the ground, Lydia started to use her nails instead, sobbing in agony the deeper she tore away at her shoulder. She wanted them gone, her ravaged body beyond repair, she wanted it all to disappear. What had she done to deserve being born a Whisperer? Why did it have to be her?  **Why?**

The burning on her skin became too much to bear, and her nails started to draw blood. Having exhausted her options, Lydia screamed at the top of her lungs at the mirror, screeching in the face of the complete wretchedness that stared back at her.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, in a fit of rage, she balled up her fist and sent it flying towards the mirror without a care in the world, shattering it. Immediate pain shot up her hand, blood spewing from where shards of glass were embedded in her knuckles.

Squeezing her eyes shut to snap back the tears, Lydia grabbed both sides of her hair, viciously pulling on it. Like she’d reverted back to a mindless beast that didn’t know what to do. All the memories, the only way she could get them out was to distract herself with pain. Finally, the adrenaline-fueled girl dropped to her knees, weeping, slinking down into a fetal position onto the cold bathroom tiles. Blood continuously gushed out of her hand, forming a small pool. Not that she cared much.

Even now, she could feel her mother’s eyes on her, smiling in amusement. The damage had been done, and there would never be anything she could do to reverse it.  **Never.**


End file.
